Ways to Impress Me
by xXSedationXx
Summary: Rumbelle adventures in the past, present and future. Completely ignoring the second half of Season 4 and going AU from there. Eventual Spinner!Belle. Rated M for a reason - lots of smut will be contained within. Please enjoy!
1. Chapter 1

**Gods - I must be insane to start another story while in the middle of working on Sensitivity over on the SGU side - BUT! Here we are, staring at a smutty Rumbelle suspense thriller, that will later completely and utterly deviate from the second part of season 4 (wtf, just wtf, man?) - Eventually shifting to Spinner!Belle (I know there's a title for this, but for the life of me I cannot remember it) in future chapters. Since this story deals with incubui and succubui, be prepared for smut, smut and more smut. This one will be slower in updates as well - but I promise to make the chapters longer than Sensitivity. Please enjoy and leave me a review if you feel so inclined!**

**I do not own OUaT - #Rumbelle doesn't break that easily, damnit.**

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**Chapter 1 - Through the Night**

Lightning flashed in the moonless sky followed by the deafening crack of thunder, making the horse of the black cloaked figure, riding silently down the middle of the Troll Road, to rear in panic. Quiet tutting from the rider calmed the animal, returning them to the leisurely pace they had kept through the forest most of the evening. Wispy tendrils of chocolate brown hair escaped the rider's hood as ice blue eyes scanned the tree line, keeping watch for their prey. Something had been stealing the livestock from around the Dark Castle, and the rider's master saw it fit to send the girl alone on horseback as bait for whatever had been committing the thievery. No one, absolutely no one, stole from The Dark One and lived very long.

The oppressive feeling of magic closed around her, she was certain her master was close – he had never let her out of his sight unless she was properly secured in the castle. At times, she had wondered if he kept her around only because of the loneliness he surely must have felt. Over the past two months serving him, however, they had come to a comfortable living arrangement. Her master had even given her new clothes, a soft bed, allowed her books to read once she completed her chores for the day. She had been allowed to wander the grounds as well as certain parts of the castle at will. It was on one of these wanderings of the castle grounds that she had noticed some of the livestock missing. Belle had been fairly certain at the time that she had not seen a cow, nor a sow butchered in the larder recently. While her master had no misgiving about slaughtering the livestock when they ran low on meat, Belle was thankful she never had to do the preparations herself. Too gentle of heart, her master had been telling her right along.

Belle's hands trembled as she scanned the area again, looking for the flash of amber in the dark that would tell her that her master, The Dark One, was still following her along the road side, waiting for the thief to try and stop her on the road. Her breath caught in her throat as she saw a flash of silver from her left, an arrow loosed from a bow, hitting her palomino in the flank. Already spooked by the weather, and the residual traces of magic lingering in the forest, the horse threw her off leaving Belle in an awkward heap of cloak and leather riding clothes as he cantered off into the night. Quick to her feet, Belle pulled the dagger she had been given to protect herself – in case of more than one attacker, the blade silent as it slid from the leather sheath on her side. She turned as another arrow loosed, the imperfection of the fletching allowing her enough time to move as the air whistled across the notch of one of the parabolic vanes, causing the loud hiss – almost as loud as the thrum of the string.

"Rumplestiltskin!" She screamed, moving off to the other side of the road, the black cloak a blessing as she hid in the growth along the road. Belle pulled in a deep breath, willing herself to stop shaking as she heard the familiar giggle from above. Relief washed over her pale face, willing the fear of being shot with an arrow to fade. She was brave in her own ways, but she certainly was not going to be idiotic by not calling for her master to let him handle whoever was firing the projectiles at her.

"Well, well, if not a thief, at least someone is trying to _harm _my property." Rumplestiltskin waved a golden hand, trees along the other side of the road ripping by their roots, toppling in a semi-circle, leaving Belle's assailant visible in the low light of the hooded lantern the figure carried. "Do you have any last words before you offer an act of contrition to assuage my anger, cur?" Rumplestiltskin jumped from where he stood in the tree above Belle, landing with an almost feline grace in the middle of the road. Belle finally let her held breath trickle through barely parted lips, her shaking vanishing as she felt the heat pulled from the air around her, her master's hand glowing with fire.

"No, but I have a deal for you, Dark One." The figure called back, voice steady but Belle swore she could hear the undercurrent of fear in the words. Rumplestiltskin snapped his fingers, the fire that had been gathering flickering into nothingness once more, the first drops of rain starting to fall across the forest as the storm finally caught up to them.

"You see, dearie, I might have been in the mood to deal with you had you not stolen, and attempted to murder my maid. Good help is hard to come by these days, you know." He clasped his hands behind his back then, pacing back and forth in the road way. "Besides, you have nothing that I want." Belle had seen this exchange before, usually resulting in some poor idiot offering gold, or a first born child to her master in compensation for some bauble to bring back someone's lost love, or straying spouse. Belle had learned quickly from her master's mercurial moods that occasionally a deal could be struck, depending on if the one seeking the contract understood that what they were asking for usually was impossible to gain via magic. Staying crouched in the undergrowth behind Rumplestiltskin, she waited for the response. Maybe it would be tempting enough for her master.

"And I think you underestimated the gravity of the situation your little maid is about to find herself in." The fear that had been in the figures voice vanished as Belle's cry was muffled by a leather clad hand clamping down over her mouth, a dagger forced against her throat stopped her from struggling any further. Blue eyes wide with fear, she was forced to her feet, and marched out and around her master, the second figure giving wide berth in the arc they traveled back to the semi-circle of felled trees. "As you said, good help is very rare these days – especially when that help is a princess of Avonlea, whose father is offering a fortune for her return."

"As if I needed any reminding of how much I should have let the ogres rip that small little backwater to shreds. Very well, as I see you have my maid, I suppose your deal is for an exorbitant amount of gold in exchange for her life, neh, neh?" Rumplestiltskin's hands moved of their own accord, his voice becoming more malicious as he continued. "I think you've overestimated the value of good help. Take her! She's a breaker of cups, and clumsy girl who destroys more than she's worth." His hand waived dismissively. Belle's heart started to flutter faster in her chest as panic overtook her. Of course she had broken a few things as she adjusted, but she had tried all she could to make good on her end of their bargain. Tears started to form along her lower lids – how could he just allow her to be taken like that? He had said forever. Belle felt the dagger removed from her throat as the silver was pointed towards her master.

"See I told you! Coward even with all that power, after all this time – the book was right. We're going to be rich by the time we make it back to Avonlea!" Rumplestiltskin turned, hands clasped behind his back again, amber eyes turning almost black in the small amount of light still issuing forth from the hooded lantern. The second brigand tossed Belle back behind himself and the bowman then, cocky smile revealing half rotted teeth. For the second time that evening, Belle fell into a heap of cloak and leathers. "And if we kill him, well then, the entire realm will thank us! Everyone will fall before us and shower us with gold, think of it." The bowman tossed the lantern at Rumplestiltskin then, knocking an arrow as the imp swatted the object away. The brigand with the knife rushed at Rumplestiltskin, dagger held high to try and catch him in the neck.

Lithe on his feet, Rumplestiltskin caught the dagger between his fingers side stepping to allow the larger man's weight to carry him past as he took the dagger, flipping the hilt into his hand. "Neither of you were born with an over-abundance of brains, were you." Rumplestiltskin sighed as his black eyes rolled at the tedium of a "fight". He drew his sword from his side as the first man came back around trying to grab him from behind, thrusting the blade out behind him as he turned away from the arrow that was aimed for his face.

"Got to be faster than that, dearies." Rumplestiltskin giggled as he vanished in a poof of purple smoke, settling down on one of the felled trees, his sword snapping up to knock another arrow away. "That's enough of that now." A snap of fingers resonated as loud as the thunder that sounded as Belle finally worked the hood of her cloak back, regaining her feet on the rain slicked ground. She was soaking wet, upset, and dirty now. She was angry at her master for allowing her to get tossed to the ground not once, but twice, and furthermore she was hungry and tired – yearning for her bed at home with a good book and a spot of tea. Shaking her hands to try and clear the leaves and mud that had stuck to her, she picked her way back to the road, past the two idiots who were now hanging upside down some ten feet in the air, suspended by her master's magic.

"Good help is hard to come by these days?!" She asked incredulously, nearly smacking Rumplestiltskin across the face. One brow arched as his half-moon smile spread across his features, somehow making him look more sinister than she had ever seen him.

"Come now dearie, you should know by now that you were never in any real harm from these bumbling thieves." He tried to placate her anger, but could see he was getting nowhere fast. He wondered how burnt his toast would be in the morning, and whether his midday tea would be oversteeped and allowed to turn bitter in retaliation. His smile faded as Belle finally turned to look at her attackers.

"Are you really going to kill them, over a cow and a sow? There is more livestock. They might not have even been the ones who stole from you." Rumplestilkskin tsked as he steepled his fingers together, ignoring the rain as he studied Belle's face, her hair plastered to her skin by the worsening rain. He would need to take his maid home soon, lest she become ill in the late fall rainstorm.

"I might have let them live, had that been all they took." He explained, as he wiggled his fingers, a book sliding from the archer's pack, floating to his hands. "However, the livestock is the least of their worries. Someone or something took this book from my library, which means that someone has found a way into _my _castle, around _my_ wards, and stole from _me_.

Since I can assume you had nothing to do with this, as it would nullify your agreement with me, and well, those pesky ogres would be free to return and trample your village into dust and bone, that means that my possessions are at great risk. Someone went through a lot of trouble to take this book, and give it to these pesky louses." Another snap resounded through the forest as the two hanging men disappeared, their clothing and items falling to the road as Rumplestiltskin placed an arm around Belle's shoulders. In a puff of purple smoke, he teleported them home.

Belle sneezed as they appeared in the Dark Castle, the doors into the main hall opening before them as Rumplestiltskin made his way towards his spinning wheel. Belle moved quickly to the fireplace, trying to warm up, but she knew she would need to strip out of the soaked leathers before she would truly feel warm again. Her face turned as the sound of a book being tossed on the large table in the center of the room echoed in the quiet hall. The familiar creak of his spinning wheel followed, barely audible over the crackling of the fire.

"Go change, dearie." He ordered, not turning away from his spinning, or rather, his turning of the wheel. He had yet to feed any straw in the wheel, as Belle recognized the behavior. He would be lost in thought for hours on end, and then would be screaming for tea and tarts of some sort once he was done. Belle took a few steps towards the door that would lead her to her "room", hesitating as she reached to push the door open.

"Rumplestiltskin?" She asked, as the creaking of the wheel stopped. "Thank you, I mean, for not allowing me to get hurt this evening." She felt a blush rise in her cheeks as he turned to regard her with those abnormally large amber eyes of his. He let that half-moon smile creep across his features once more, as he shooed her on.

"I'm not tired of you yet. Go change and get some rest, dear." He turned back to his spinning, the wheel turning once more. Belle smiled to herself, touching her cheek and feeling the warmth of her blush. She finally opened the door and made her way to her room. It would be so nice to feel dry and comfortable in her bed she decided. Rumplestiltskin looked back to the door way once more, his hand immobile above the wheel, one brow arched in confusion. He had more to ponder this evening that he had originally thought.

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Belle sighed to herself in contentment as she opened the door to her room, albeit it was more of a cell, and found the fireplace had been returned to her. Over three weeks ago, her master had taken the warmth away, for breaking a vial of a potion he had been working on for several nights straight. She had been relieved at the time that he hadn't taken the payment out of her flesh. Of course more blankets had found their way to the soft bed over the nights the fireplace had been missing. Belle figured she must have done a good job this evening to get the small comfort back.

Stripping away the soaked traveling leathers, her feet protesting the cold stone, she moved to the corner of the room where a toilette had been set up. A wash basin, with a pitcher sat cold, as she grabbed for her shift, pulling it over her head. Belle rested the pitcher in front of the fire, and waited for the water to warm up, as she busied herself with shaking the leathers, trying to get some of the water out of them, before she carefully spread them out by the fire to dry. She would need to spot treat some of the mud in the morning, when it had caked and would be easy to brush off with a stiff bristled brush. She took her riding boots and turned them upside down, setting them to the side of the fire on a special stand, hoping they'd dry overnight, otherwise her trip down to the stables in the morning to feed the pigs, cows, chickens, and horses would be rather treacherous. She only had the silk slippers she had worn the night her master had made his deal otherwise.

Tentatively, Belle touched the pitcher, making sure the water was warm now, but not hot enough to scald her. The temperature was just right. Belle took a towel out from under the toilette and set it down on the floor for her to kneel on. Lifting the pitcher, she poured the warm water into the wash basin, and then moved the delicate dish to the floor beside her. She took a bottle of rose water from the shelf the towel had come from, and dashed a few drops into the basin. A smaller soft cloth found its way into the water next. Content that it was finally bath time, she drew the shift up over her head and tossed the light fabric aside to the bed.

Hands dipping into water, Belle wrung the small cloth out, and started with her face, working the rose scented water down her neck, behind her ears, and across her shoulders before the cloth started getting cold. She dipped back into the warmed rose water, continuing down her arms, savoring the feel of warmth returning to cold sore limbs. Belle's breath hitched at the roughness of the cloth over her chest, across her belly. Her eyes fluttered closed as she tried to conjure up the face of her betrothed, trying to imagine having been married to him. Gaston had been superficial and less intelligent than she felt would have been tolerable, and the fact that her small fantasy was quickly becoming golden in her mind's eye raised a blush along her cheeks, the rush of blood quickly spreading down her neck and chest.

Another dip into the basin, and the arrival of the rough cloth over the curve of her hip brought more images of long golden fingers splaying across her skin. She made quick work of her most intimate area, and continued on to her legs, shaking her head at the silly notion of a man like her master ever touching a girl like her. Belle forced her eyes open, finishing her bath. The shift was pulled over her head as fast as possible to hide her nakedness. She had no right to think of her master like that, even if he practically seethed sexual confidence in his very existence.

Belle was not shy in the matters of men and women. She had been taught about what to expect her wedding night. Talks of the like had been saved for wedding nights for many a woman, but her own maid had been close in age and her conquests many. Belle had learned eagerly, committing to memory the many secrets the girl had shared. Ways to pleasure her to be husband that would hurt much less than the impending wedding night, ways to pleasure herself, should that same husband not be as concerned with her own pleasure.

And yet, Belle still blushed when she thought of her lessons. Still a maiden, that much had to be kept intact to make a strategic marriage work. And a maiden she would remain, as long as she was kept in the employ of her master. The deal had been forever. Frustrated, Belle fell back on the bed, pulling the heavy wool covers over her head as she groaned at the thought of never knowing another's touch. She had seen the serving girls in the castle, envied them their ability to love, even briefly, who they chose, not forced into a political arrangement.

Turning up on her side and tossing the covers back from her head, she finally snuffed the candles that had been lighting the room. She could hear the rain on the high window of her room, the constant pelt a welcome addition to the crackle of the fireplace. Warmth and comfort soon led her to sleep, content in the knowledge that she would not ever have to marry into a loveless marriage at the whims of another.

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Lightning continually splayed across the sky, the storm gathering momentum off the coast. The rain came down in heavy sheets on the window panes, hidden from view by the large drapes over every window in the Great Hall. Rumplestiltskin had yet to spin this evening, his hand continually turning the wheel, as the wheels in his mind turned at great speed. Someone had broken into his castle, and he could think of only one person with the backbone needed to steal the book that still lay untouched on the massive oak table. Regina – The Evil Queen. The book itself was meaningless, a simple register of families in a specific part of the country, a certain human spinner among the many entries, one of the last traces of the man Ruplestiltskin had once been.

What cause did Regina have to take such a book, and more importantly, why would she be interested in his life over two centuries ago. Every other person in that book was dead, with the exception of Baelfire – or so Rumplestiltskin hoped. Every year he held out the small hope that his son still lived, and they would one day be reunited, but that was neither here nor there at the moment. The more pressing issue was how Regina had come to take the book in the first place. If she could take that record, which had been securely stored in his library for two centuries, then what else might she have taken or plotted to take.

Hand leaving the wheel, Rumplestiltskin rose from his stool, taking the stairs to his library two at a time up the tower's interior. Long fingers caressed the first row of books he came to as amber eyes scanned the contents of the shelf. A quick mental inventory complete, nothing was missing from that shelf. He continued his search, walking counter clockwise around the room, until one finger slipped into an empty space on the bookshelf. The register had sat in that location, the shelf right next to the rather grand window he had a fondness of looking out of. Had it not been for the storm, he wouldn't have noticed the marks on the window until day time again. Someone had pried one of the panes loose enough to fit a hand through and turn the lock that kept the windows closed. Not Regina's style – but a simple thief with the right push would have been able to make the climb and gather the book with little trouble. Rumplestiltskin had never thought of warding this window – if he wasn't in this room, then he was downstairs in the Great Hall, it would have been impossible to complete the theft without him hearing.

Learning from his mistake, Rumplestiltskin quickly warded the window with the same enchantments that he warded the rest of the windows with. Only he or Belle could now open this window without losing a hand. Enough of a deterrent for most thieves not to try a second time. This wouldn't be enough, however, the rest of the castle needed to be checked for any other lapses in his defenses. If he couldn't protect his property, couldn't keep hold over what was his…well, he had learned that lesson a long time ago.

Slowly he descended the stairs, his fingers tracing the line of stone as he made his way back to the Great Hall to begin his inspection. He would look for dust at the same time. It would give him something to complain about to the girl in the morning that hopefully would distract her from sabotaging his breakfast in retaliation for his comments earlier this evening. He rather hoped the gesture of the fireplace in her room would also make her reconsider.

Tried as he could, he was unable to find even the most remote speck of dust in the Great Hall as his mental inspection continued. He hadn't been lying when he had called her good help. None of his prior caretakers had done their job in a satisfactory capacity. Then again, none of his previous caretakers had come of their own free will, nor had they been princesses beforehand. Rumplestiltskin steepled his fingers together under his chin, grinning at the memory of his favorite chipped cup. Skinning children, indeed.

His inspection of the kitchen yielded no broken wards, and nary a piece of silver out of place in the cupboards. Feeling mischievous, he took the sugar bowl from its place on the shelf, setting it in the middle of the center island, tipping its contents all over. His half-moon grin returned as he left the mess for the morning. The girl would scold him in the process, but that was always the exciting part. She wasn't scared of him, and the more he did to try and irritate her, the more focused on doing an exceptional job at her tasks she became. And he rather liked the challenge of trying to make her mad. The closest he had come yet was this evening on the road. Her eyes had not been ice in that moment, but fire and anger, directed at him, yes, but captivating all the same.

He continued on in each room, finding some object to move out of place as he catalogued his possessions, making note of anything looking disturbed. With someone cleaning the place, he couldn't expect everything to be right as he had left it last. He had found no major discrepancies, which eased his worry. The book had been the sole object taken, other than the livestock, which had been part of ruse, if logic held true. Returning to the Great Hall, Rumplestiltskin turned the old register right side up, and leafed through several of the pages until he found what was actually missing.

"Now what could you be planning to do with that, Dearie…" the sinister growl rose from his chest, his teeth gritted in anger. There was only one thing Rumplestiltskin could think of for the item taken, one possible reason she would have for taking one of the last remaining remnants of his former life. And he'd be damned before he let her get away with it.

Lips pulled back from his teeth, he vanished, teleporting himself to the Queen's castle. The storm hadn't yet arrived in this part of the continent, but by the looks of the dark clouds rolling in behind him, all hell was about to break loose. Purpose driven walk taking him right up to the gates of the castle, he blew the pitiful wood barricade of out his way, continuing inside. Guards started to yell from within the castle, but he paid them no mind. It was about time he had a small talk with his former student.

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Regina toyed with the braid of hair she had taken from Rumplestiltskin's book, her eyes narrowed as she weighed the options in her mind. Black hair braided with gray streaked brown, and deep chocolate, it had to be the last thing he had of his little family, that strumpet wife and idiot child of his. What Regina couldn't decide was why the monster had kept it all these years. Surely it was a trifle; something that he knew could be used against him eventually.

Rising from her sitting table, black skirts swishing, she crossed the room to a cauldron boiling already in a noxious purple brew. A hair from each strand in the braid, and she would be able to bottle one of the few things that could keep the imp from interfering with her plans. He had offered her the curse, helped her learn, come when she needed assistance, but his usefulness was coming to an end. Regina had never actually wanted him along for the ride when she enacted the curse, he would muck up her happy ending. Hand poised over the cauldron, hairs held between her fingers, she hesitated. He _had _given her the curse to use with as she willed, but the feeling of someone watching her stayed her hand.

"You know dearie," came the malicious voice in the dark, before the imp himself walked out of the shadows, hands steeple together as he took slow deliberate steps towards her. "If you really wanted to be rid of me, you wouldn't have stolen from me. Besides, you've cast that wrong." The imp giggled as he took a seat on the fainting couch, legs crossing, and hands behind his head. His smile was vicious, and his eyes spoke murder as Regina turned to look at him.

"If you had been a better teacher then maybe it would have turned out better." Regina threw back at him, tossing the braid in his lap. "Take your stupid trinket and be gone. I have more important things to do than suffer your laughing at me." She stormed back to her sitting table, the frown on her face becoming more evident, even as her high heels tapped out her annoyance at him. She took her seat and ripped the pins from her hair, letting the black silk tumble down her bare back, the dress open to almost scandalous depths, ending in a vee above the swell of her behind. Rumplestiltskin's eyes trailed appreciatively down to the point of the dress. His manic mood taking over, he stood from the couch, walking up behind her, black nails pulling the hair away from her neck. Regina held back the look of disgust that she was feeling.

"Tut, tut. You above all people know what happens to those that steal from me. Besides, the failings are your own. You're a lack-wit girl who lets ambition cloud her judgment, and the memory of twoo luv blinds you to what you could be." Rumplestiltskin leaned down, so that his next words would have maximum impact, the triumphant grin on his face as he could practically feel the hatred radiating out of her. "Of course, you always did let mommy-dearest take everything away from you, didn't you pet…" Rumplestiltskin took the hairs she still had in her hand and tucked them into his waistcoat, giggling as he moved to the window, hands behind his back, clasped together as he regarded the incoming storm. Regina stood then, throwing the first thing that came to hand at his retreating back.

"And you will always be a coward!" She screamed at him, as the bauble incinerated before hitting him. He let out another high pitched giggle as he turned. Regina pulled at the heat in the air, the fireball growing in her hand as the room went ice cold. Every bit of heat was channeling into the magic, her emotions fueling the inferno brighter.

"Oh you have no idea, pet. Enjoy your misery." His eyes were black as he disappeared in the cloud of gold, points of glittering light fading as Regina tossed the fireball after his retreating form, knowing it wouldn't connect, but feeling better that she had at least stood up to him and his malicious intentions this time. She resolved that the next time he came to see her, that she'd have something truly horrible laying in wait for him. He had long ago outlived his usefulness.

Secure in the knowledge he was gone; Regina walked to the cauldron, and dropped a single hair into the pot, watching as the liquid turned a bright golden shade. She smiled to herself, as she moved around the spell, whispering the incantation that would rid her of her former teacher, and her strongest adversary. The thieves had done their job well – Rumplestiltskin believed she was trying to manifest a spell to strip him of his power – she was certain of it – what use was hair with a purple potion if not to try and steal someone's power?

A face began to materialize in the potion, the liquid changing, growing, turning more humanoid as it went. Finally, a golden Belle stepped out of the cauldron, little puddles of gold fluid running down her body to the stone floors. As the liquid dried, the enchantment fleshed out, turning more lifelike by the second, until a perfect replica of Belle stood before her.

"I take it you've made your plan already?" Regina asked, the replica nodding once. "Good. Now go do your job succubus."

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Belle sat in the kitchen, book open on her lap, humming to herself as she stirred the beef stew she was making, occasionally moving the contents of the pot so that it didn't burn. After the encounter with the thieves in the woods, and the storm that still hadn't cleared up, she decided that a hearty beef stew would be just the thing to cheer her master up. He had returned in the middle of the night, footsteps echoing through the entire castle, mad, angry footsteps. The shouting at the walls didn't help either. Where ever he had gone that evening had made him extremely angry. Angry enough that his breakfast had sat untouched since morning, and she hadn't been called to gather anything for him at all this day.

Her chores had gone quickly after she had discovered that he had moved items around in each room she was allowed in. She had quickly moved everything back to its proper place, and continued with her rounds of the castle. She had been done by noon, and by then Belle was bored again. Without her master sending her to do this and that, she had improvised and spent the afternoon cutting vegetables from the root cellar, and cutting a flank steak from a recently slaughtered cow into bite sized chunks. The smell was simply sinful, the spices and wine blending together in the air made her mouth water.

The kitchen's swinging door opened then, as her master poked his head in, his eyes closed, his nose turned in the air as he took a deep smell, lips curling into a content easy smile. Belle closed her book, after slipping a small paper inside to mark her place. She turned a moment, and set the story on the island counter top behind her, and then returned to her stirring. Her master finally came all the way into the kitchen, a spoon from the counter in his hand, fully intending on stealing a bite before it was done. Belle smacked his hand with her own spoon and stared at him.

"Since you're no longer in the middle of a temper-tantrum, you can wait till it's done. It's your own fault for skipping breakfast and lunch, moping in your workshop." Belle returned the spoon to the pot, and lifted out a morsel of beef, bringing it close to her mouth so she could gently blow on it before checking to see if it was done properly. She had no intention of eating the bite, breaking the bit apart would tell her if it had cooked through or not.

Rumplestiltskin's face was one of shock, much like when her father had called him a beast, the night he had taken her from her home. A giggle rose from his chest as he leaned against the counter, watching her rosy lips pucker to blow air across the morsel on the wooden spoon she commanded like a sword. His knuckles actually hurt. Belle turned to see those amber eyes watching her, her own eyes turning downwards as to not look him in the eye for too long. She could already feel the blush spreading across her cheeks, and in the moment of her inattention, her master had leaned forward and taken the bit of meat from her cooking spoon with just his tongue. Belle watched as he chewed the meat, his face making her believe it was the most succulent thing he had ever tasted. His amber eyes regarded her the entire time.

Belle felt the blush deepen at his close proximity, and the way he was looking at her right then. She tried to breathe normally, but her breaths were getting stuck as she watched his tongue dart from between his lips, licking away all traces of the broth the stew chunk left behind. His giggle and rapid hand movements shook her from the fantasy playing out in her mind, and Belle cleared her throat as she turned back to the pot.

"So I assume that the stew is satisfactory?" She asked, looking over at the brick oven in the corner where two loafs of bread were baking to go with the hearty stew this evening. Rumplestiltskin leaned back against the center island behind her, watching her closely as she stirred again, careful not to completely turn the vegetables into mush, but just enough for the base to not burn on the bottom of the large cast iron pot. He placed one of his feet on the lowest rung of the stool where she was sitting, and picked up the book she had been reading when he had entered the room. Flipping through a few pages, he let the question hang in the air. "Master?" Belle asked hesitantly, her eyes still on the stew.

"Yes, Belle, the stew is very satisfactory." He spoke quietly, as he flipped to where she had marked in the book. Belle's eyes fluttered closed as he continued where she had left off. "The daughter, however, would not consent to this, and said, "Father, if we have the mortar without having the pestle as well, we shall have to get the pestle, so you had much better say nothing about it." But he would not obey her…" Belle's eyes snapped opened as he slammed the book closed and tossed it back on the island. "This story is boring." He said simply as he continued to stand behind her. Belle shook her head, a smile crossing her lips.

"Maybe, but it is a good story nonetheless. Full of clever riddles and love, and fighting for something that is truly worth it! Those are the best kinds of stories, don't you agree, Master?" She asked him, her spoon dipping out another morsel of meat, as she turned to let him taste, her smile still on her face as she held her hand under the spoon to catch any of the broth that spilled over. Rumplestiltskin's eyebrow rose nearly to his hair line as he leaned forward and took the bite, enjoying the spices and wine that danced over his taste buds. Seductive little minx was trying to win him over with food. As he chewed, he pondered her question, he much preferred stories that didn't have a happy ending, they were more realistic and the way the world really worked. One look at the hope behind those blue eyes and he found himself nodding in agreement. He couldn't bring himself to speak the lie past his lips, so he let his gestures do the lying for him.

"A scarier tale, mayhaps." He finally said, tapping his chin with his index finger. He knew he had books somewhere in the castle with stories that could make even the Dark One's blood run cold. And he was fairly certain his blood already ran cold in his veins, even if certain body parts conspired against him to prove him wrong. "With ghosts and evils that go bump in the night," he added. It was Belle's turn to raise an eyebrow at his words. She turned back to the stove, and then moved the pot off the burner, putting the iron cover over the hole to the fire within the belly of the stove. She moved off the stool, and went to pull the bread from the over. It was about time to pull it as well, the golden crust starting to darken a bit, just how he liked the bread. He moved to help her, knowing how clumsy the girl was at times. He wasn't taking a risk with the delicious smells that had him in a semi-decent mood this evening.

Belle smiled at him, as he stepped in to help her with the large paddle like tool that helped remove items from the oven without getting delicate limbs in the way. He masterfully pulled both loaves out, moving the wooden implement to the rack already set on the center island, letting both pans comes to rest there. They'd cool for a few minutes until the bread was ready to be turned out and sliced. His mouth was watering at the prospect of oven fresh bread and a bowl of stew.

"Now Master…" Belle began, smiling at him. "I believe this is what you brought me here to do. I shall bring your dinner shortly." Her voice was firm as she held a hand towards the kitchen door that would take him back to the Grand Hall. He raised a finger in protest, and then though better with the glint of mischief in her blue eyes. It was entirely possible she would dump a whole chunk of salt in his stew. A grin spreading across his face, the words that had started on his lips died and he turned, retiring to the Great Hall to wait.

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Rumplestiltskin paced back and forth by the book cases, waiting for his dinner to be brought forth from the kitchen. Silly girl was taking her time, making him wait for more of that mouth watering stew and fresh baked bread. He had already chosen a book for her, scarier tales for the storm still thundering over them outside. He had decided the storm was magical in origin. In his almost three centuries of life, he had never seen a rain storm last this long, or batter the realm as much as this one was. There had been heavy rain falls in the past, but none came close to the amount of water this storm was dumping on the land. With the way the windows were steaming from the heat of the castle, he supposed it was lucky that the air wasn't yet cool enough to turn the down pour into snow.

Moving to the window, Rumplestiltskin looked at the angry sky. A hand on the window pane, he turned towards the kitchen. This damned storm was going to turn into snow before the night was over, and the livestock would suffer in the elements. Grabbing an old walking stick from where it leaned on the book case, he pushed through the door of the kitchen again.

"Belle, I need your help." He said simply, pulling a rather large silver key from his waistcoat. "Take this key, and head downstairs and open the wooden door that opens to the pasture and stables, wait there to help me corral any stubborn sheep." Belle nodded once, grabbing her cloak from a peg on the wall near the stairs to the bottom floor of the castle. She knew it really wasn't the bottom floor. The castle had a dungeon she had never found the entrance to, but she knew it was there. She wrapped herself up tightly, as she heard the servant's door off the kitchen open, and then blow back shut against the pounding rain.

She descended quickly taking a torch off the wall and lighting it in a brazier as she passed by. Fitting the silver key to the lock, she turned it twice, knowing the first turn simply deactivated the charm on the door, the second turn actually unlocking it. She grabbed the iron loop and pulled the door open, trying to find him in the rain. She couldn't see him, but she could hear the gentle click of his tongue as he drove the herd of sheep towards the castle, the cows obediently moving along as well. Belle stepped back out of the door as they started to herd into the open room. She stepped to the stair case, knowing they'd travel up it towards warmth if allowed. A few chickens ran around the stomp of hooves on the stone floor, as the last cow filed in. Rumplestiltskin leaned his head in the door way, his hair matted to his face, even with his cloak pulled up.

"Belle, close the door while I go back for the horses. There's some straw in the back corner that is unfit for spinning, lay it out as best as possible, if you would please." Belle moved to do what he had asked; her hands pulling at the bales of straw she found bundled in the corner. He had lied; this straw was as good as any he had her fetch for spinning. Realization set in as she scattered the golden plant along the stone floor, a smile spreading across her face. This was straw he kept for spinning and he was using it to make the herd animals more comfortable. He did have a soft side after all, and she was keen to know that side of him even more now.

She started breaking apart another bale, scattering as best she could, as one of the goats playfully butted her in the side. The goat was a juvenile, so the hit hadn't hurt at all, just startled her. The cows were already picking up pieces of straw from the floor, their mouths moving, chewing over and over. She loved that they had livestock at the castle. She hadn't been allowed in the stables at her father's home, and she had never been allowed to the pasture to see the sheep, goats and other assorted animals the castle had kept. That Rumplestiltskin cared that the livestock were out of the storm, whether to minimize loss of the herd, or because he truly cared about the animals, well, that was noble of him, and even if it was just him protecting his "possessions" she decided that he couldn't be as evil as he thought himself to be. Belle turned to the sound of the opening door watching as he led all four horses into the store room, closing the door behind them, and locking and warding it once again.

He was completely soaked, water running down his leather in rivulets, puddling on the floor. He nodded once, noticing that she had spread out enough of the straw to cover the floor sufficiently enough to be easy to shovel out once the snow passed. He had felt the rain shift while he had walked the pasture back to the stables to bring the horses. It had beat down on him as he had made his way back to the castle, his breath misting in the air. It was sleeting now, and it wouldn't be long until the temperature dropped a bit more and turned the down pour into a snow storm.

Rumplestiltskin took stock of the animals. Even if they were snowed in for several weeks, he had enough straw, oats and corn to feed them all. That the herd would be thinned slightly as he and Belle ate would keep them fed for a month, if this blasted storm dropped that much on them. He was worried that it would. Fall was rapidly becoming Winter, and this storm felt magic in nature. Whomever was summoning it, meant for it to be a snow storm. Belle was still moving, filling up feed sacks with oats for the horses, scattering corn for the chickens, even setting to work in the corner, fashioning some of the straw into nest for the hens. They'd lay eggs again soon – the ones in the coop would be frozen with the snow, and could be gathered later, the chill would keep them fresh at least, provided none of them were housing chicks yet.

Belle frowned as she worked on the nests, and Rumplestiltskin decided she had come to the same conclusion – there might be baby chicks in the coop that would freeze to death as the temperature dropped. One look at the tears starting to spill silently down her cheeks had Rumplestiltskin back out the enchanted door with a basket, heading to the coop.

After several chicks had been returned to the mother hens, and the eggs that were not yet budding into little chickens stowed away in the upstairs kitchen, Belle had moved the stew pot back over the fire of the stove, warming it back up. It had taken them over an hour and a half to get the animals fed and housed out of the elements. While her master had gone to change out of his clothing, she had fussed at him to not let it sit on the wooden floors lest the water ruin the wax she had recently redone in his rooms, she did what she could to salvage the meal. Filling two bowls full of the stew, and bringing an entire loaf of bread along with butter she had churned the other day, she backed through the swinging kitchen door into the Great Hall.

The fireplace was burning brightly, and instead of his usual place at the wheel, or at the head of the table, Rumplestiltskin sat in the wing backed chair in front of the fire place, poking absentmindedly at the logs. Belle carried the tray of food to the small table that sat between the chairs at the fireplace, taking the poker from him, and handing him a bowl of stew instead. He released the poker, gladly accepting the bowl, the spoon already resting in the blessed food. Rumplstiltskin was still cold from the rain, now snow threatening to bury his castle for months.

By the time he had returned from the chicken coop, nearly five inches of fluffy white covered the ground, and looks outside the window showed no signs of it letting up soon. He watched as Belle threw another log on the fire, using the poker to shake the ashes of the incinerated logs to the floor. When the fire had died down in the morning, she would clean them out, and start the process all over again. The book he had chosen earlier sat on his knee as he spooned the stew to his mouth, relishing the warmth it offered to his still chilled body.

Fire attended to, Belle took a seat in the other chair, pulling both her legs up under her and spreading her skirt out before she took the other bowl of stew from the serving tray, tasting her hard work herself. His amber eyes followed the spoon as it disappeared between her lips, a blissful smile spreading across her face as she teasingly slow pulled the silver from her mouth, her tongue just barely following the movement out, before sliding back between her lips, savoring the meal. Rumplestiltskin wasn't feeling very cold any more. If she continued to eat like that he was likely to make an unwelcome advance on her. He cleared his throat as he returned to his own food, his mind turning over and over like a mad man. Did she even realize how ravishing she made the simple act of eating look? She surely was doing this on purpose. He could find no other explanation. And somewhere in the back of his mind, the monster in him was whispering to him to take her. She was being very clear that she wanted to be taken, but the man in him, the man that had won out in sheltering the animals, in heading back out in the elements to potentially save the chicks bullied the monster back into its cage.

Belle was a very young woman, and there was absolutely no way that she understood that what she was doing was so infuriatingly seductive. She was innocent, and he didn't have the right to corrupt her, any more than he already had by stealing her away from her family. And if she were ever to find out that she visited him nightly in his dreams, she would be appalled. He was ugly, a monster, The Dark One. No one could ever love him – not even his own son. Thoughts bitter, he continued to eat, but the meal had lost the magic it held just minutes before. The stew was simply nourishment, nothing special. There was no way she could have known it was one of his favorite meals – he had never requested it from her experimentation in the kitchen. It was circumstance, plain and simple.

Setting the dish aside, he plucked a slice of bread from the tray and buttered it, the corner of his mouth twitching involuntarily into a half smile as he realized she had reheated the bread, and the butter was oh so deliciously melting into every little crevice. Had he been thinking, he would have asked her to bring the honey pot out as well – that would have made it even better. Taking a bite, he then knew why she hadn't – she had put honey in the dough before baking. Silly girl didn't know the fire she was playing with.

"Do you like it?" Her voice shattered the silence, and Rumplestiltskin looked to her, nodding slowly as he chewed. It was divine. Maybe had had at one point mentioned to her that he liked honeyed bread, or maybe she had just assumed after having made the bread for long enough to know he always requested the honey after their meals. "Good, I'm glad!" Belle replied with a smile. Infuriatingly seductive little minx.

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**Sometimes I think Rumple purposely likes being smexy in my head as I write - otherwise he's cunning and infuriatingly fond of leather no matter what time of year. Let me know how you like it! - Like I mentioned before, this one will be updated slower than Sensitivity as Sensitivity is my main focus now. Expect updates every two weeks, instead of every Friday/Saturday unless I get a drivin' need to have more Rumbelle smut. Who am I kidding, Rumbelle smut is the best. - Sedation**


	2. Chapter 2

**Feeling like making an update kinda early - I know I said this one wouldn't be updated quite as often since my main focus is on my SGU story Sensitivity, but I got the desire to post early - On vacation next week, so if I do put up Chapter 3, it will not be on Friday. Dream Smut contained within, if you don't like that sort of thing, skip it :D - Enjoy Dearies! - S**

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**As a disclaimer - I do not own OUAT - #rumbelldoesntbreakthateasilydamnit**

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"No, no, no…" she countered, taking the book from his hands as he smirked. "You're so monotone as you read, here, let me show you." Rumpelstiltskin folded his hands on his lap, leaning his head back in the wing backed chair and closing his eyes. Belle continued on with the story.

_"The fires leapt around the dragon, his teeth gnashing in fury as the dwarves drove their bone swords into his side. He would not be a slave to their whims, their need to dig further into the ground, to find the dust that would return good to the world. Teeth as sharp as razors closed around one dwarf, killing the attacker instantly, the hot blood coursing down his throat. The dragon roared in triumph as he felt the cold iron slice through his scales. Damned dwarves and their human companions! They were annoying insects compared to his magnificence! He could crush them with a thought, chew their bones to ash, toy with them until the begged him for death. _

_ The old witch laughed from her perch, taunting the dragon even still. This was her fault; she had lead the dwarves and the humans to his home! She had been working with them all along. Leathery wings beat the wind down as the dragon rose in the air. He would kill her for this transgression, and then he would burn her lands with the fires of hell. After he was done, nothing would grow there for a millennia."_

"Really Rumpelstiltskin, this is your kind of story?" Belle held a finger in the book, marking where she had left off. Sure this story was full of adventure and knights and excitement, but written from the dragon's point of view made her feel sorry for the beast, even if he was incredibly malicious, and had killed the human's mother in a fit of rage. Rumpelstiltskin's eyes cracked open as she questioned his taste in stories. It was late in the evening, after she had cleared away their meal; he had helped her with the dishes. The kitchen was immaculately cleaned again, and they had retired to sitting back in front of the fire, the tea set taking up the small table between them.

"Better than a story of twoo luv." He teased her, relishing the look of her cheeks as the blush raised in them. She was so easy to tease. Belle cleared her throat.

"Well I certainly don't know what you mean by that. I thought you promised me a scary story." She closed the book he had chosen earlier, and set it on her lap, turning towards him. His amber eyes slid to the side to watch her back.

"No, I said I liked scary stories. I never promised you a story." A half smirk crossed his lips, as he pushed himself out of the chair, swaggering to the book case. He turned back towards her, his long finger pulling another volume from the shelf, as he snapped his fingers on the other hand, muting the lights except for the candle by their seats and the fire place. Eerie shadows played on the wall, and with the snow falling outside, everything was incredibly quiet. Belle pulled her shawl tighter around her shoulders, her tea cup held between trembling hands. He certainly was going to try and scare her with this story, she was certain of it. "But, dear, if you want a scary story, I will happily oblige." He returned to his chair, watching as she turned to face him, her attention on him rapt.

_"Long ago, before time was counted in the passing of dark and light, there lived a mortal who thirsted for the most taboo of sustenance. Those in his village had shunned him, driven him away from their fires with stone and bone spears. He was cursed, the dark lived within him. No one would even look at this mortal, for it was said to look at him was to barter your soul to the Old Ones. He had been cursed with a thirst for blood, a taste for flesh, the need to nibble the marrow from the bones of his kindred. He had no name, no home, he wandered the lands, cursed no matter where he went. Eventually he found a tribe that wandered the sands, that kept their dead with them as they moved ever further in the desert. _

_ The mortal felt at home with this tribe – they walked the night, and slept the day, buried under protective hides and sand. Their dead they feasted from, as meat, even water was rare in the desert. And when their dead ran out, one among them would sacrifice themselves for the tribe to continue. Over time, the tribe noticed that their stranger was not aging, never tiring, sleeping like the dead during the day, his thirst and hunger insatiable. The tribe grew scared. Many were dying much faster than before, and the women told tales of the dark beast that rode them raw in the night, filling their wombs with the seeds of the Old Ones. The tribe decided they had to risk leaving the stranger – they would not make it across the desert with him, he would thirst and hunger through them all, even the small babes that had recently been born – dying to some unknown affliction when no one was looking._

_ The tribe elders waited for the day light to come, the tribe buried themselves in under leather and sand, and waited until the stranger was surely asleep. One by one the tribe rose from the sand, spears in hand. The stalked the mortal stranger, uncertain if he would wake or not before they could carry out their dark deed. The elders pulled the leather cover from the sand, finding the stranger with a deathly pallor, his skin like parchment, his eyes glossed in death. The tribe gathered around, spears raised to strike, each warrior summoning the courage to kill the mortal, and as the first spear struck the mortal, blackness enveloped the land, the elders crying out that they had angered the Old Ones. The tribe scattered as the mortal stranger rose, pulling the spear from his heart, licking the black blood from its blade._

_ The mortal killed the tribe, one by one, as darkness settled over the desert, allowing him full reign of his power, yet it be day. One by one, he dipped the spear back into his heart's blood, letting three drops fall between the lips of the fallen tribe. Once the act was done, he buried them again, under their leather and their sand, returning to his slumber. The unnatural darkness melted away, returning the sky to brilliant day light._

_ When the sun set, the tribe rose together, their skin as thin as parchment, their eyes glossed in death. They rose, and flew across the desert at the command of the mortal, now the immortal. His skin supple in health, his eyes sparkling with life._

_ "Go now, my children, go and feast, feed the worthy with your heart's blood, let their life become your own, let their hunger become your own, let their thirst be your own, as yours is mine now. Return to them the life you have stolen, and live as their immortal remembrance." His thralls moved at his command, their sickness spreading far past the desert, striking even closer to the immortal's village. They slept the day, the sleep of death. At night they rose, their ranks swelling ever more, their hunger more insatiable with each passing day._

_ At last the immortal would have his revenge on the village that had shunned him, had drove him out, at last he would drink every drop of their blood, eat every bit of their flesh, break their bones and suck the marrow clean. And then, when he was done, when his vengeance was sated finally, he would sleep, and live through his children, and their children. Their thirst would be never ending, their drive to make more like him, like them, would drive them to the far reaches of the world. And when at last all the mortals had been slaughtered like cattle, then his family would be complete. Then the sky would remain dark, their hunger sated, their thirst slaked, and their need for eternal rest complete. And they would rule at last."_

Belle shivered in her chair, her tea forgotten, cold in her hands as he closed the book finally, setting in aside on the table. Rumpelstiltskin's face was unreadable, as he stared into the fireplace. They both jumped as the fire popped, Rumpelstiltskin the first to break the silence with a giggle.

"So, dear, sufficiently scary enough for you this evening?" He didn't dare look over at her, to see if she had fear behind those blue eyes. He heard her gasp as the candle finally went out, leaving them in the semi-dark of the fireplace, the embers finally dying down enough to cast sinister shadows across his sharp features. His eyes finally turned, seeing her own blue eyes as large as dinner plates, her hands worrying the tea cup she held so firmly in her hands.

"Yes, Master. That story was sufficiently scary." Belle was trembling as she spoke. She was certainly brave, but the story, the snow, and the dark atmosphere of the room had played on her human fears. Inside she was certain that she'd be burning many candles in her room tonight, just to feel safe.

"Go get some rest dear, I'll clean up the tea. I expect my breakfast on time tomorrow morning." He rose, taking her tea cup, his thumb trailing over her hand as he took the china from her. He could feel her fear telegraphed in her grip on the cup. She wouldn't sleep tonight, all because the willful child had wanted a scary story. "Relax dear, are you afraid of me?" He asked her, his thumb trying to coax her trembling away.

"N..no." She chattered out finally, her hands still showing signs of fear.

"Then why are you scared of the story. I am the thing you should be frightened of." He finally moved the tea cup to the serving tray, kneeling down to take both her hands in his, trying to warm them as the chill set in the room, the chill of late night and the dying fire. "I am much more fearsome than some silly story." He tried to reassure her; uncertain of why he felt he had to soothe her fears.

"I know, you are the Dark One, Master, and if there is anything to be feared in the entire realm, it is you." His half-moon smile slid across his face, hiding the sadness he felt. So she was afraid of him. He supposed it was better that way, a health amount of fear might keep her from doing stupid things like fixing his favorite foods, and being playfully sexual with her eating that made the man side of him and the monster in him want to bend her over the table and bury his cock in her over and over again. How long had it been for him? Two centuries nearly since he had felt that part of his anatomy even stir with any need other than urinating? He assumed it had been because he had stolen a beautiful princess, who occasionally looked at him with adoration in her eyes. Or it could be that he just needed to bed a whore, give in to meaningless lust to kill off that small hope that she might look at him with that adoration once more.

"That's right, dearie! And don't forget it. Now, Belle, off to bed. I expect you ready to help clear snow off the windows if needs be." He rose back to his feet, picking the tea service up and disappearing into the kitchen to clean and put the china away. He lit the lamp that sat on the center island, and went about working, not even turning as the kitchen door swung open, and Belle joined him again. He was happy for the lack of light, facing the wash tub, he could hide the fact that his leathers were incredibly too tight for him right now.

"Master?" Her voice came out in a squeak. Rumpelstiltskin looked over his shoulder at her, as he washed out the inside of the tea pot.

"Yes, Belle." He turned back to the wash tub, cleaning the cups and spoons, drying them before placing them where they belonged on the shelf. He closed his eyes and willed his arousal away; he would not turn to face her feeling like a teenage boy hitting puberty for the first time.

"Please don't make me stay down stairs tonight. Please.." She begged as he turned to her, finally getting his anatomy back under control. She was well and truly scared, all of a silly story.

"And where, exactly, do you propose to sleep this evening, dearie?" He asked, remembering she had an overactive imagination and that even if he had been mortal still, he was still over twenty years her senior. He had seen the real horror of the world, the Ogre Wars, human nature, greed, avarice. Yes, there were things to be afraid of, but scary stories were not one of those things anymore.

"I could sleep on the couch near your fireplace?" She asked hopefully, as he started to scream obscenities in his mind. _Holy fucking fairies, the girl wanted to sleep in his room._ This was such a bad idea, not only for her, but for him as well. Two centuries, and in one day he was certain he was going to fuck her brains out, bury his cock so far inside her that it would take days to separate them. And he wasn't certain any more that she wouldn't be reciprocating. She hadn't winced at his touch, and the way she had been looking at him all evening, well, he was old, he wasn't dead.

"I'll make you a deal, dear…" he started, one slender finger going to trail down the tip of her nose. "I will allow you to sleep on the couch next to my fireplace, if…." He tapped his chin, watching some of the fear drain out of her, as if she was honestly relieved that he wasn't going to make her sleep in her own rooms. "…if you make me this stew at least once a week." _And pleasure me with that succulent little mouth of yours until you can't see straight any more, _he added in his mind, wishing he wasn't such a coward as to not say it aloud.

"Deal. Once a week, if you allow me to sleep on the couch in your room for tonight." Belle nodded slowly, and then took a deep breath, the tension in her shoulders melting, allowing her to relax some, but the undercurrent of fear was still visible in her movements.

"Do you need anything from your room, dear, I plan on retiring now, so if you need something, we best go and collect it." _Shit! Shit! Shit! Shit! She's really intent on sleeping on my couch this evening._ Rumpelstiltskin kept repeating to himself over and over what a bad idea this was.

"Just my shift to sleep in, and some blankets." She said, as he raised a hand to usher her to her room to collect her things. Belle nodded, still not able to smile, and allowed him to lead her off to her room.

_This is such a godsdamned bad idea. _Rumpelstiltskin was certain that he had just gotten the better part of the deal – the stew had been divine, but he wasn't going to be able to sleep at all tonight.

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Belle curled up on the fainting couch in front of Rumpelstiltskin's fire place, her sleeping shift on, and her blankets pulled up to her shoulders as she stared at the fire dancing in the grate. Rumpelstiltskin still hadn't turned away from the window, his eyes on the snow that was still falling with renewed force. Occasionally he would rub some of the condensation to get a better look. She was certain that he was avoiding trying to sleep for some reason. It wasn't as if she was trying to crawl into bed with him, but then again, her master had always been slightly odd about his privacy. She hazarded a look at his back; his hands were clasped together behind him, his face slightly upturned to the sky. Yesterday had been the new moon, but with the blizzard outside threatening to cover the world in an extra deep blanket, the night was dark once again.

"Master?" She whispered to the dark room, leaning up on one elbow, her other hand going to push the hair out of her face. He turned slightly towards her, showing that he was listening to her, but he didn't respond. "Are you not going to try and sleep? It is very late you know."

"No, Belle, I believe I have something else that I need to attend to, however, I did say that you could sleep in here, and thus, I will stay until you have fallen asleep, standing watch for the boogey men you're frightened of." His voice came out softer, and deeper than she had heard him speak in a long time. Usually his speech was higher pitched, dancing across a myriad of ranges.

"You'd leave me alone, once I'd fall asleep?" She asked his back, her hands trembling once again under the blankets.

"Only for a little while, dear. I will not be leaving the castle, if that is what you are afraid of." He turned from the window completely then, still hidden by the shadows that the firelight was casting across the room. Belle had to admit, his rooms were ornate, comfortable as they were plush. Deep crimson red and gold adorned the walls, the curtains of his great four post bed, tapestries showing scenes from history, and several ornate book shelves. The room was homey even, comforting. If she would have to be alone, she would rather be left alone in this room than anywhere else in the castle. Even the fainting couch she was currently laying on was incredibly comfortable.

"Well then, I could just read until you returned…" Belle trailed off as she saw him shift foot to foot, almost like he was indecisive about leaving her awake in the room. She had a pretty good idea that he kept all manner of spell components, items that he wouldn't want her rummaging through without him there to keep a careful eye on her, to keep her out of trouble of course.

"Would it make you feel better if I didn't leave then?" He asked from the shadows. "Is there some reason why you insisted on sleeping in here this evening, and then are refusing to actually sleep?" He started walking to the couch, his steps slow, deliberate. Belle felt that her heart was about to leap from her chest as he moved close enough for the fire place to catch the gold of his skin. "What is it that you want, dear?" He arrived at the couch, sitting near her feet, his too large amber eyes almost black.

Belle bit her lower lip; she had never seen his eyes be black before, unless he was enraged about something. Was he angry with her now? Had she pressed too hard to be allowed this, too soon? Earlier in the evening, she swore he had been ready to push her to the great oak table and ravage her. Had she mistaken a small bit of kindness as attraction? She caught his lip curl for a moment, almost as if he was disgusted at her – she had seen that face before, when he looked at some of the people who sought him out for deals.

"I..I want to know you better, Master, that's all." She finally answered him, watching as those large eyes of his scanned her face, as if he was watching her to discern if she was lying to him or not. Finally he leaned back against the far end of the couch, letting his hands fold over his chest, his fingers twitching slightly as he wove them together.

"I suppose I am to blame for that." Rumpelstiltskin turned his face to the fireplace, Belle acutely aware of the loss of his attention. He was closing back off from her, he'd start giggling any moment now, as he always did – she had to moved fast to keep him in a talkative mood.

Belle sat up, placing a hand on his knee. She watched as his attention was fully on her again, on her hand, his eyes wide in shock. "No Master," she started. "I am just lonely, and a bit scared of the story. I realize it's silly to be so scared of a tale. Thank you so much for suffering with my childishness this evening." She dared to stroke her thumb over that same knee, hoping to keep his attention just a little while longer, to keep him from shutting her out as he often did when she tried to learn more about him. "And, there's no one else to talk to here. Some days you spend the whole day in silence, and it is painful not to hear another voice now and then." His attention was rapt, watching her thumb, as the wonder started to fade and be replaced by something darker that she couldn't quite place a finger on.

"I apologize. I've spent years alone, except for the revolving door of people looking for a magical fix to some mundane problem. I occasionally like the silence, if at all possible. People far and wide whisper my name in the night – I can hear them all." His face turned back to the fire place, and the walls were back in place. Belle smiled sadly, pulling her hand back to her lap, only to shift one of the blankets up around her shoulders. The chill from the snow outside was seeping into the room.

Belle watched as he finally rose from the couch, and tossed another log on the fire, adding back a measure of warmth. She took a deep breath, nodding as he turned to watch her again, his form black against the fire. Feeling the first whispers of sleep start to crash through her thoughts, she curled back down under her covers, adjusting her shawl that she had been using for a pillow this evening. Blankets back up to her chin, her eyes finally refusing to stay open any longer, a blissful smile spread across Belle's face.

"Goodnight Master." She managed to mumble out, before sleep completely took her.

"Goodnight, Belle." He chorused back to her, before he finally made his way to his own bed. He may as well sleep himself, since the snow didn't seem to be stopping any time soon.

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Rumpelstiltskin was quite certain he was dreaming, especially since he had been certain he had gone to bed, and not been sitting up reading a book in his bed, as he listened to the gentle breathing of his help on his couch. Staring down at the book in his hands, he confirmed that he was indeed sleeping, the text a jumble of symbols that had no sense, and was like no language he had ever encountered. He knew every book in his library, front to back – this was not one from his collection, nor was it one that Belle would have brought with her. His half-moon smile appeared. He so enjoyed dreams like these – ones where he was coherent enough, in control enough to make the dream be whatever he desired.

He let his eyes fall back closed, feeling her crawl up over the foot of the bed, tossing the book to the side. This dream was one of his favorites, and that he was aware enough to enjoy it to the fullest extent, well, now, that was just the best part of the evening. Her lips pressed against his jaw, as she moved to straddle him, her hands working his vest open, buttons on his silk shirt popping as she tore the offending fabric free, allowing her access to freely touch him. He pulled her face to his, capturing her lips in a fevered kiss, his teeth grazing her bottom lip, his tongue demanding entry into the mouth he knew would taste of honey and peaches.

Her lips parted, and the monster inside him roared in triumph as his tongue swept over hers. He moved his hands down her arms, across her back, his fingers digging into soft flesh as she ground her hips down against his, seeking out some form of release that the innocent her would have known nothing about. He fought the urge to force himself awake, knowing full well that this dream would only do good to frustrate him even worse come morning, when he would once again have to watch the real her flit around his castle, her every movement of incredible interest to him, and a certain part of his anatomy.

Gods be damned – he needed this more now than ever after her little stunts in the kitchen earlier. He tore dream Belle's shift open, pushing the fabric free as he broke their kiss, his teeth seeking out her neck, worrying the skin there before kissing a path back to that insatiable mouth of hers. Her hands were trying to work the laces of his leathers open, her real clumsiness translating into the dream even better than he could have ever hoped for.

She made small sounds of frustration as she tore at the laces still, his hands moving down her bare back, cupping her behind, moving her for the moment he knew was about to happen. She won over the laces of his leathers, freeing him as he lifted her, immediately thrusting himself fully inside her, his pace already frantic, the need to lose himself in her too great to allow him to be gentle, even in a dream.

Belle pushed his ruined shirt and his vest off his shoulders, her fingernails digging into the flesh of his shoulders as she held to him, panting as he thrust into her over and over. She leaned her forehead against his, as he felt her nails tear at his skin, her hands going to his cheeks.

"Look at me Master…" Somewhere in the back of his mind registered that she had never spoke in his dreams, but he was too far gone to care, his eyes open, staring into those lovely blue orbs that were gazing into his with such wonder, such …adoration. He slowed his movements, reining the monster back under control. Even dream Belle deserved better than a simple fuck.

"Mine." He groaned as he drove into her harder, the muscles in his arms screaming at him as he lifted her slowly, so slow that she tried to wiggle her way back into control of the pace. "Mine." He growled out, slamming his hips up as he pulled her back down, taking perverse pleasure in the way her head fell back, the throaty moan almost echoing in the semi-dark room. "MINE!" he roared, hands tangling in her chestnut hair, keeping her head back as he claimed her mouth again, his tongue mimicking the movements of their hips.

He released her hair as the leather still tangled around his legs became unbearable , legs kicking the skin tight pants away, his arms lifting her again, sliding under her knees, before flipping her over, letting her come to rest under him. He moved one of her slender legs up over his shoulder, pulling the other to his waist as he continued to pound into her, his movements controlled, languid. Belle's hands returned to his shoulders, as if she was hanging on for dear life.

"Oh Rumpel…" She moaned, his sexy little minx starting to bite the skin of his chest, her teeth finding purchase where they could, making him buck as she bit him hard enough to almost break skin. Again that nagging though in the very back of his mind screamed warning at him, and he tossed it away, locking it up before it could interrupt again.

"Let it happen love.." he whispered to her, pressing kisses behind her ear, along her neck, her body growing tenser as she fought not to jump head first off that precipice. "Just let it happen love." He whispered to her again, feeling her insides clench around him. "Let go." He commanded as the first spasm of her orgasm hit her. He growled, deep from his chest, his hips slamming into hers once, twice, three more times before he came. Two godsdamned centuries of pent up frustrations leaving in an instant.

Rumpelstiltskin leaned down, his lips pressed to hers, his tongue pressing into her mouth again, tenderly now, not as insistent as before. Careful to not crush her, he rested on his elbows, his legs feeling like they'd betray him if he tried to move yet. He finally broke the kiss, his fingers gentle as he moved her hair out of her face. She was radiant, her bruised lips curved into a smile, those blue eyes gazing lovingly up at him. For the first time ever, he felt….desired. His Belle leaned up, kissing his collar bone, and that was enough to shut his brain down, his body quaking as he came again.

"My Belle.." he breathed as he finally pushed himself up, his eyes rolling back in their sockets as he finally pulled out of her, completely spent, completely sated. As his head hit his pillow, he pulled her to his chest, holding her close, kissing her forehead, her temples, and the tip of her nose. Her hands curled into small fists against his chest, her cheek pressed over his heart. He pulled the blankets and furs up over them, knowing the fire would go out soon in the dream, leaving them cold.

"Thank you Rumpel." Belle breathed softly as sleep took her, leaving him to fall back into dreamless slumber, a genuine smile on his face as the darkness returned washing up and over him. Of one thing he was certain about this dream – this was the one he would keep returning to from now on.

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Belle woke early, as per usual, the fainting couch very comfortable once she had been able to sleep. The sky outside was still dark, but she was certain by the frost on the windows that it was, in fact, still snowing outside. That meant that they were probably going to be trapped inside the castle for a few days, waiting for a thaw, or at least for her Master to get fed up and melt all the snow on a whim. Wrapping her blankets around her shoulders for warmth, she let her bare feet touch the plush carpet that took up much of the room, happy to find it wasn't as cold in the morning as the stone floor of her own room was.

Moving finally, she leaned over and tossed another log on the fire, her Master's curtains still closed around the large bed. From the muffled snores, she knew he was still asleep. Padding as quietly as she could to the bed side, she collected the clothing from the floor to take to wash – she could always string a line in the kitchen to dry them by the ovens as she baked today. Frowning, Belle noticed that the buttons had been torn away from the shirt; that would take her a few hours to fix before she could launder it. Normally her Master was careful with his clothing, the vest was one of his favorites, and the laces on his leathers were almost torn. Whatever business he had attended to after she had fallen asleep must have been dangerous for him.

Shrugging her shoulders at the thought, most of her Master's endeavors where dangerous after all, Belle left the room, careful to close the door behind her softly as to not awaken her Master; after all, he would punish her with his foul mood if she woke him too early. She made her way to her room first, pulling on the heaviest dress he had given her, and over her normal stockings a heavy pair of woolen socks she had knitted from wool he had spun for her one evening. They were the best present he had given her so far, even more so than the clothing and her fireplace back. Pulling her boots over the socks, she wrapped her shawl around her shoulders and stopped a moment by the toilette to pin her hair back. She would need to feed the animals, and then shovel as much of the muck into the corner nearest the door. She was certain her Master would use fire to melt around the door so they could at least muck out the basement before the smell became too strong.

Lantern in hand, she left her rooms and moved through the quiet castle towards the Great Hall. The doors opened for her, as per usual, and as she passed by the fireplace, she felt the small hairs on the back of her neck stand on end. She froze, mid-step. She had been watched before, and this was the same feeling. Something, or someone was watching her, and she was certain her Master was still in his bedroom. Had he awoken, he would be calling for his tea from his normal chair already. Belle's eyes scanned over the Great Hall, looking to see if anything was out of place. The book he had read to her last night was still on the table beside her Master's chair. The tea service had been cleaned and put away in the kitchen. The hat was on its stand as it should be; the Grail was on its stand. The mirror was still covered, the cabinets were closed, and the Golden Fleece was still hanging where it should be.

Belle turned again, lifting the lantern out in front of her as she did. Nothing appeared to be out of place, nothing seemed to be missing. Moving quickly, she opened the cabinets and took stock of the items within. One of the first things she had done when she had began to clean the castle, had been to make sure she knew the contents of the shelves and where they were supposed to be. She knew in the course of dusting that eventually she would misplace something slightly askance of what it should be, but her Master hadn't yelled at her once for that.

Eventually the feeling of being watched faded, and Belle wrote the encounter off as nerves from the previous evening. Her Master had intentionally scared her with the story last night, and she was fairly certain he would do so again tonight, once he learned they were snowed in, with the snow showing no signs of stopping any time soon.

Pushing the door to the kitchen open, she sighed at the residual warmth from the oven and stove. The kitchen had always been extremely warm, and she enjoyed cold mornings there. She took the tea service from the shelf, and set it out on the silver tray on the center island. Measuring out the correct portion of tea, she dropped the leaves in the pot, and then fit the lid back in place. The sugar bowl followed, then two cups. Normally she would have set out the service to have all six cups, but unless her Master's visitors magicked themselves into the castle, she was certain they'd have no visitors today.

Belle pulled the loaf of bread they had not ate with dinner over to her, and started to cut it into bite sized pieces. She was going to make bread pudding for breakfast, and she wanted to prep the bread before heading downstairs to feed the animals. The room was warmer than she had first imagined, and Belle wiped the back of her wrist across her forehead, perspiration already forming there – usually she didn't start getting overly hot until she was putting bread in the oven to bake for the day. Setting the knife down, she moved the bread chunks into a pan. She would collect fresh eggs when she fed the chickens – they'd make the bread pudding even better tasting than the eggs she had collected last night.

She would need to use those eggs soon – and since she was most likely to spend her entire day inside – for a while – she would use them in cookies and the breads. She would need to bake several loaves to have on hand. When the weather turned cold like this she knew people liked to eat filling meals. She wondered if her master was the same way. She could ask him later.

Belle headed downstairs, careful of where she stepped. If any water had seeped in on them during the night, she was certain they'd be icy, as cold as it was. The pigs noticed her first, a bucket of leftovers from the kitchen poured in their trough before she went to fill the horses feed bags with oats. The cows were still chewing on the hay she had scattered the night before, happy as they could be. The chickens pecked at her boots.

"Alright, alright – no need to be impatient.." She fussed at them as she felt the head butt of one of the kids on her side. "And you, little boy, will get fresh hay as soon as I am done." Belle reached down and rubbed the black and white goat's ear for a moment, earning her an insistent bleat. She grinned as she snapped the feed bag in place on Rumpelstiltskin's favorite stallion. Jet black, with a blade of white on his nose, the large horse nuzzled her neck as she buckled the strap in place. She pet his side, noticing that she would need to come down later and work a brush over him, his coat was getting a bit dull. The red mare she favored was next, followed by the palomino mare. She stopped in front of the grey's alcove, noticing he was snorting at her.

"What's wrong boy?" She asked as she let the grey's neck, his mane like silk. She wasn't scared of the horse, but he had bit her a few times when she had first come to the castle. As far as Belle knew, Rumpelstiltskin had never given them names, and so she had dubbed this one Bitey for the habit. Buckling the feed sack in place, she would come down after she had the bread pudding in the oven to take the sacks off and allow them to munch on the hay.

Belle moved to the alcove the bales were stored in, picking her way around some muck as she tore off a bit of a new bale, spreading it out on a clean area for the goat. She earned another happy bleat as his little hooves beat out a dance of appreciation. Belle laughed to herself as she finally made her way to the nests she had fashioned for the chickens, tossing out two handfuls of dried corn for them to peck at. As the chickens moved away from their nests, she carefully sorted out freshly laid eggs, and ones that had been "saved" last night by Rumpelstiltskin. A smile spread across her face as she remembered that he had gone back out in the driving rain to make sure no chicks had been left behind in the coop.

Eggs secure in a basket, she placed the basket on the stairs, taking up one of the shovels that had been leaned against the wall by the door. She didn't have the key to the door; her Master would not allow her her own set of keys, so she did the best she could, moving piles and dirty hay across the floor to a pile. She would have to have him help her with what to do with the pile later, but at least now the animals weren't standing in their own filth and it was contained. Breaking apart the bale she had used earlier to feed the goat, she covered bare areas, and made a small fresh pile for the cows and the goat to nibble on until she figured out how what was left in the alcove was going to feed, as well as cover the floor for all the animals for the next few days.

Grabbing the basket of eggs, Belle returned to the kitchen, checking her boots to make sure she hadn't dragged any of the much back up with her, and finding that she had done an exceptional job in not doing so. Setting the eggs on the center island, she pulled her shawl off and hung it on the peg by the door. She quickly washed her hands, using a bit of salt to help get the dirt out from under her nails. Drying her hands on her apron, Belle turned back to the center island. The fear that she had been being watched returning full force; the knife that had been left on the center island was gone, and where she had left it, there was no possible way that it had fallen to the floor.

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Rumpelstiltskin's head was pounding, and he noticed as he rolled over in bed that he was naked. He hadn't remembered taking his clothing off last night. The last he remembered was that he had pulled the curtains closed around the bed, and had worked at falling asleep as fast as possible to not get out of bed and go ravage his maid. He had been rewarded with lovely dreams of her however, and the memory of such brought his half-moon grin out in full force. He groaned as he sat up, pushing the blankets and furs off him, wondering why his body felt like he had been running the whole night through, and his back felt like he had been flayed. Touching his chest, he winced, before looking down. A crescent of teeth marks marred the golden-green skin there, and Rumpelstiltskin's eyebrows shot into his hairline. Hand going to his shoulder, he felt the wounds there as well; half moon nail punctures on both shoulders. Coupled with the stiffness of his legs, and the muscles in his arms screaming at him, he wondered if his little maid had in fact crawled into bed with him last night.

No. Belle was innocent of such things, and there had to be a perfectly logical reason that his body was manifesting the same wounds he had acquired in his dream. He would need to look over a few of his books, but he had heard tales before that what happened in dreams had the possibly of manifesting in real life, should the dream be potent enough. He had research to do as soon as he broke his fast, and had enough tea to soothe the ache of his head.

He ripped the curtains of his bed open, appreciating that Belle had already put a new log on the fireplace. Looking back at his bed, he noticed the book that was sticking out from underneath his pillow. Curiosity got the better of him, trumping his need to be clothed as his twitching fingers pulled the book to him. Rumpelstiltskin's eyes narrowed as he looked the pages over, flipping through them one at a time. Belle had no access to this book, and he would not have removed it from his lab. Someone was still in his Castle, and was doing a damn good job at keeping their presence hidden from him.

Red smoke covered him for a moment, his black leathers in place as he stowed the book in the inner pocket of his coat. Legs screaming rebellion at him, he decided to teleport himself down to the Great Hall, a decision made all the easier when Belle's screaming reached his ears. Damn the Hall, he made a split second decision and teleported to the kitchen in a haze of purple smoke. Appearing next to her, Belle had started to run for the door, and thus ran head long into his chest. His reaction was automatic, his arms wrapping around her, a hand going to the back of her head as he crushed her to him.

"Belle, what's wrong?" Rumpelstiltskin asked insistently as his black eyes scanned the entire kitchen. The wards on the kitchen door were in place, as well as the magical barrier that only allowed him and Belle access to the basement. He took note that the tea set as well as breakfast was in a half made state, and a basket of fresh eggs sat on the counter top. Belle's screen died in her throat, but his poor maid was hysterically crying now. His head pounding even harder, he leaned a cheek again her head, his arms tightening around her as he felt her fingers grip his vest tightly. Something had scared her, and he was beginning to believe that it was no longer the story from last night. "Belle, darling, you must tell me what the matter is so that I may fix it." He spoke quietly, stroking her hair, her back, trying to calm the fear some, so that he could assess how much danger they were really in. Eventually her tears and her fear lessened, and she took a deep breath to steady herself.

"The knife is missing, Master. I left it on the counter while I went downstairs to feed the animals, and clean up after them some, and when I came back upstairs the knife was gone. It was right here!" Belle punctuated her words by pointing to the exact place her kitchen knife had been left. Rumpelstiltskin looked to the sink, to the other counters, to the stove. There was nary a knife in sight, Belle was a meticulously clean individual, and she kept his estate in order, at all times. He believed her when she said the knife was gone. The area it had "vanished" from was too far for her to be mistaken and have dropped it on the floor, and besides that, he had already scanned the floor, no knife was there.

"Shh, Belle, it is alright. I'm going to take you back to my rooms, with some tea, and a good book and you are going to stay there as I walk the Castle and grounds and make absolutely certain that nothing is the matter." He went to work quickly, pouring water from the kettle that was kept warm on the stove at all times, into the tea pot, quickly setting the lid back in place. "I need you to hold onto my arm now, dearie, we're taking the magical method." He picked the tea service up in one hand, and held his other arm out, smiling at her when she slipped her arm through his. The purple haze returned, as he moved them to his rooms. They were the most guarded, heavily warded place in the Castle. She would be safe there while he hunted down who ever had the gall to break into his home, again, it would appear.

Setting the tea service on the end of the fainting couch, he helped her sit, kneeling down and taking both her hands into his. Belle was still scared, and the trembling was worse now. He realized he had never taken them anywhere by magic before, and the first time someone teleported usually left them feeling out of sorts.

"Now, dearie, I want you to stay here and do not, under any circumstance, remove the covers from the mirrors, nor open the door. I am locking you in here, and there is absolutely no reason to open the door. You know I can move about the Castle at will, so tell me Belle, to make sure you are hearing me – what have I commanded you to do today?" He tried to force some of the power surging through him back down, knowing that his eyes were black, and that when they were, it scared her more.

"I am to stay here, and not open the doors, nor uncover the mirrors at all." She repeated back to him, tears still running down her cheeks, but at least she wasn't hysterical any more. He kissed the back of her left hand, in a gentlemanly manner, and then returned her hands to her lap, pouring a splash of tea in to his favorite chipped cup and pressing it to her hands.

"Good girl. Now there is a tub that will fill of its own accord behind the folding screens over there, feel free to bathe and use any of the oils there you wish. You may read any of the books in the room, or if you feel better trying to sleep, you may curl up in the blankets and furs on my bed. I may be gone for several hours as I check every nook and cranny of the estate, and you," he stopped, his hands still around hers around the tea cup. He took the tongs from the tray and dropped two lumps of sugar into her tea, before stirring the tea with a bit of magic. He hated himself for what he was about to do. "You, dearie, should at least be comfortable while I am gone. I will bring you some fruit and other things to eat on from the kitchen as soon as I check the bottom floors. Now drink this, dearie, it'll make you feel better."

Belle's hands lifted automatically bring the cup to her lips as she took a small sip of the tea, a small sigh of appreciation slipping from her as the warmth did wonders for her nerves. She lowered the cup again, not trusting herself to hold it without dropping it. Rumpelstiltskin nodded, and made a motion for her to take another sip. She complied and took a longer drink this time. He had been right, the tea was making her feel better, even a bit sleepy now.

"Thank you, Master, I am feeling much better now." She slurred out, as Rumpelstiltskin took the tea cup from her, setting it back on the silver tray. Belle's eyes fluttered closed, finding it increasingly harder to keep them open, as her Master blurred in her vision. She toppled forward, and he caught her with ease, curling her to his chest protectively.

She was just a slip of a girl, and he carried her easily to his bed, tucking her into the covers and furs to let her sleep. He made sure the enchantment he had used on the tea was one that would give her dreamless sleep, in case whatever was in his home was using dreams to attack them. He pressed a tender kiss to her forehead, pushing her hair out of her face. This was his Belle, the real one, the innocent maid he was infatuated with already, and he was going to do whatever it took to keep her safe.

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Regina paced in front of her vanity, waiting for confirmation that the plan was underway. She had to know that everything was working out according to plan to set in motion the next part. The succubus should be reporting back to her, but with Rumpelstiltskin's penchant for covering all the mirrors in his Castle, she was worried that the succubus wouldn't be able to tell her if their plan was going how it should. Regina realized her fears were for naught as the liquid gold replica oozed out from her mirror, taking its true form. The succubus towered over Regina, her skin black as onyx, her hair white as fresh fallen snow.

"Well, are we on schedule?" Regina demanded of the demon.

"Everything is going according to plan, your Majesty. The storm is contained around the Castle, and I have already drained a sufficient portion of his energy. Enough to set the second part of your plan in motion." The onyx being made a grandiose bow as she spoke, her limbs appearing to move too quickly, and yet, like they were being moved through water; the sight was mesmerizing to Regina. The succubus held out a vial of indeterminate liquid to the Queen, her head still bowed. The succubus was biding her time. She had been summoned, and now, with the energy from the Dark One, the Queen could summon her mate. And, well, with her mate in this world, there would be no more reason to obey the Queen, even though the silly human believed that she had bound the succubus into submission.

Regina took the vial, moving quickly to her cauldron, cork popped and dropped to the floor. She poured the liquid into the cauldron, summons spell whispered on her lips, as the purple liquid once again turned gold, a being stepping forth and coalescing into a replica of Rumpelstiltskin, complete with annoying half-moon grin and giggle. Regina took a step back, her eyes sliding over the incubus, her brow arched in curiosity. The succubus grinned, her featureless face sliding back into the visage of Belle once more.

"The Queen must be informed that the Dark One cast an enchantment on the maid – she sleeps in a dreamless slumber, only to be awakened by him. I did try to break into the veil, but unfortunately my powers do not work on human females…" The succubus trailed off as she stared at her mate. They'd play along for now, the unspoken agreement passed between them; it was in their best interest after all. Once they had drained the Dark One and his center, his maid, then they would be powerful enough to move on in this realm and do what they did best.

"And your…specialized skills…can break this enchantment, incubi?" Regina asked, her head crooked to the side as a malicious grin spread across her face. The incubus bowed then, in Rumpelstiltskin overly dramatic bow – the resemblance was uncanny.

"Once the Dark One has been weakened more, the enchantment will pose no problem, Your Majesty." The incubus assured Regina, his voice a perfect mimicry of her former teacher. Regina crossed to her vanity then, pulling open a drawer and taking a new vial from a red velvet lined box. The liquid inside was red as blood, but moved like quick silver. Setting the vial into a golden chain, she changed the shape to that of a heart, a ruby gem, lined with gold. Regina then tossed the bauble to the incubus.

"Should you prove not able to break the enchantment, put a drop of that in each of the maid's eyes, and then clasp it around her neck. It should be enough to break the enchantment, so long as he hasn't placed her under a sleeping curse, and if that's the case…" Regina trailed off, looking back and forth between the pair. "Then you have your work made out for you." The duo bowed then, their movements eerily in time with one another.

"Your Majesty," they said in unison before vanishing back through the mirror.

"He's keeping her in his rooms, they're well warded, and there is the enchantment to take into consideration. " The succubus told her mate as they materialized inside of the maid's chamber. She quickly turned and hung a blanket over the mirror, knowing that the Dark One kept all the mirrors in the Castle covered. She had been extremely lucky that the maid had been in a rush this morning, and she had been allowed ample opportunity to watch the maid's mannerisms and cadence of speech.

"The wards are no trouble; even the Dark One cannot keep us out of dreams forever. It's just a matter of how long they will try to resist. You watched them earlier, does either of them suspect?" The incubus touched his mate's cheek, growling at the clumsy feel of being in human form. Humans, with their limited senses for pleasure. Yes, they had some redeeming qualities, the females could be coaxed into unspeakable debauchery with a few well placed kisses, but the sensation was muted for him, not like with his mate.

"I made the mistake of taking an item that the maid noticed; the Dark One has been roaming the castle the entire time, trying to find where his defenses failed. That and," The succubus trailed off, the cheeks of her human form turning to a blush.

"That, and, Mystarel?" The incubus questioned, his fingers trailing down his mate's neck now.

"He read her the story about the Immortal last night. I got bored with watching, and Ah… borrowed one of the books in the Castle. I left it beside the pillow when I was done." Mystarel let her eyes lower in submission, as she felt her mate's fingers tighten around her neck, his thumb pushing deep into her throat, making it difficult to breathe in her human form.

"I am uncertain if I should be angry at you, or if I should applaud you for making them both afraid – it heightens their emotions, their magic, make it easier to drain them…"

"So then you agree then, Alquarias?" Mystarel turned hopeful eyes to her mate.

"I agree. It will make the hunt that much more satisfying."

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**Hope you enjoyed! - Leave me a comment if you feel so inclined! Chapter 3 will be on a Friday here soon! :3 - S**


	3. Chapter 3

**Hello Dearies! - I hope the wait hasn't been too unpleasant - more smut - and a Surprise too! Enjoy! - Sed**

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**Chapter 3 - Morning**

Belle Gold growled in frustration as the morning alarm clock went off precisely at six o'clock, her hand fumbling for the "Snooze" button that would allow her to stay in bed for another fifteen minutes before she really would have to drag herself awake and get her day going. Belle _loathed_ the song the radio alarm was spitting out at her, strains of a band called a name she wasn't even sure she could pronounce the word so strange with z and x featured heavily. She was certain that it was something that had made its way into town with the last stranger, but she still couldn't shake the feeling that the music was wrong. Definitely not right coming from her alarm clock this early in the morning.

Belle liked having time in the morning to not feel rushed before she would open the Library and spend her day putting away books, reading books, categorizing books – everything books. Belle rolled over to sink back into her husband's arms, a look of confusion passing over her face as his side of the bed was empty already. Rumple wasn't one to be up at dawn unless he hadn't come to bed yet at all. She seriously doubted that he hadn't come to bed yet – he didn't have the same penchant in this realm for staying awake for days on end by sheer will alone, perhaps coupled with a bit of magic here and there.

His side of the bed was still partially warm, not quite as warm as it would have been had he been there, deceptively strong arms holding her tight she decided has her hand smoothed over the wrinkled rust colored sheets. She was still getting use to the idea of being married, not that she was second guessing her decision, never – Rumple was her True Love, the good side and the bad side of him, now and forever, but that their unique situation had finally culminated into what they had both wanted so bad for so long. She was happier than she had been in a long time, and the relaxed feeling in her mind spoke volumes as to how stressed she actually had been over the whole ordeal.

Belle's eyes fluttered back closed as she stretched out over the feather soft bed, the sheets like satin on her bare legs and arms, the down comforters incredibly inviting still. The alarm went off again eliciting another groan in frustration at having to be awake. At least it was Friday, the end of the week, and she would have all day tomorrow to lounge in bed if she so desired. Belle snaked a hand out from under the covers, turning the alarm clock off finally. She sat up in bed and pressed the play button on the same device, strains of a French singer from the 30's and 40's starting to filter through the room as Belle noticed the envelope that rested beside the radio alarm, Rumple's elegant handwriting scrawled across the front. "Madam Gold" was all it said, with an ornate looking arc under the writing.

Belle plucked the envelope up, relishing the feel of the expensive Italian paper in her hands, breaking the red wax seal on the back; she pulled a single folded sheet out, reading over the words twice, as her cheeks broke into a blush.

_My Dearest Belle,_

_ Please forgive me for having to leave you alone upon waking. It was not willingly that I left the comfort of our bed, of your arms, to this cold and dreary morning – there are some items at the shop that reminded me of a problem we had in another life time, and thusly I am making sure that this problem will be unable to disturb the comfort we have finally carved for ourselves in this life time. _

_ I am, however, extremely aware that I will have to make this latest transgression up to you, perhaps with dinner, if that would please you? I left you a portion of breakfast in the oven to stay warm – peach scones and the maple sausage that you've taken a liking to here as of late. The tea in the kettle is freshly brewed as of five-thirty this morning. Enjoy your day, sweetheart, please do bundle up before leaving the house, it is cold and the rain is threatening to turn to snow if the temperatures do not improve._

_Eternally yours, in this life and all that may follow_

_R_

Belle held the note to her chest, the smile on her face hard to deny even in the early morning. Carefully returning the note to the envelope, she opened the drawer on her night stand, and pulled a stack of nearly identical letters, tied with a royal blue ribbon, and added this one to the stack, her fingers running over the front of the last one before this, addressed simply as "Belle". She rather liked the one labeled "Mrs. Gold" much better. Returning the stack of letters to the drawer, Belle finally pushed back the covers, sighing in appreciation that Rumple had turned on the central heating before leaving. The floor boards were still cold on her bare feet, but the air was warm, almost blissful as she made her way into the bathroom, twisting the knob on the claw footed tub to allow it to fill with hot water as she brushed out her hair and chose her outfit for the day.

Several minutes later, Belle had her outfit laid out, and she was clean and warm, she couldn't ask for a better feeling in the morning spent alone. Dressing quickly to avoid the chill after having bathed in nearly scalding water, Belle knelt down to fasten the buckles of her leather knee high boots. She had chosen pants today, and the boots would make walking to the Library easier, should Rumple's assumption that the rain would turn to snow soon was correct. She had never known him to be wrong about snow the entire time she had known him.

Pulling on a brown cardigan over her button down shirt, she finished dressing by braiding her chestnut locks, securing the tail. Her gold necklace and earrings followed, her blue eyes sweeping over her appearance to make certain nothing was out of place. Not normally vain, Belle knew that the better she attended to her appearance in this world, the better the town would receive her, as well as her husband. There was no love for him in the town, except maybe that of his grandson and her, but over the last several weeks, attitudes were changing. Apparently married life suited Rumple, made him not as ruthless as a deal maker he had been in the past. He was trying, she knew, and that he was trying for her made her infinitely happy.

Heading downstairs, Belle opened the oven, pulling out a heavy plate that had been left there, sausage and scone in place as promised. Pulling her favorite tea cup from the cupboard, she fixed her tea, a bit of sugar and cream, and savored the tastes as she ate, mindful of the clock that hung on the kitchen wall. No one would come to the Library until later in the day, but being late was not in her nature. She disliked tardiness, and so she would not tolerate it in herself. Clearing her plate and silver, she put them in the contraption that cleaned dishes automatically. She had to admit that this world, this realm, had its advantaged at times.

Pouring her left over tea into a travel container, she filled an aluminum thermos with the rest of the tea in the kettle, wondering if she should take a light lunch with her today. Normally Rumple would stop by with a hamburger from Granny's around lunch time, happy to spend her "lunch break" with her husband before he would return to his shop, and she would return to sorting her books. She liked the little rituals they had. Since he was working on business this morning, which obviously took him away early, she decided it was prudent to pack a light lunch just in case.

An apple, the foot of a French loaf, and a wedge of the delicious cheddar that had been at the market last week were quickly wrapped in a square of cheesecloth, the package tucked inside her oversized purse as she made her way to the front door, purse and thermos in hand. Taking her keys from the dish by the door, umbrella in her other hand; she thumbed the lock on the door, and stepped out into the rainy morning, involuntarily shivering. Checking the door was well and truly locked, she pressed the button on her umbrella, raising the red and white parasol over her head as she made her way to the Library. Belle hadn't even noticed the dark shadow that had slipped through the crack in the door before she had pulled it closed, noticed even less a car that had she not been lost in thought, she would have realized did not belong in Storybrook.

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The demon pair had been brought back to memory on his wedding night. Gold's calloused thumb unconsciously turned his gold band around his left ring finger, knowing the magic he had sealed the pair with would allow him to keep Belle safe at all costs – a promise he had made lifetimes ago. A promise he intended to keep until he was dead – even after if he had too. He had lost her too many times before to lose her again, especially now.

Thumbing through his index cards of items in the shop, pictures and descriptions – even though each and every single one of them was committed to memory – he finally came across what he had been looking for – a single plain copper vase. Ironic smile crossing his features, Gold pulled the card from the box. Belle had used the vase to display her betrothed, albeit a flower through absolutely no fault of his own – idiotic prig. That had been the day he had fallen in love with her, he was certain. She had been the first person to look at him with anything other than fear and disgust, since Baelfire. She was special, and had he realized then what a complete and utter nuisance the rest of the Enchanted Forest was going to be about him, and about her, he would have never had sent her away.

He had figured out what the demon pair had been up to by then, but had been unable to capture them. He had been losing his power, and his will not to simply bend the real Belle over the great oak table and truly make her his. She was becoming too hard to tell apart from the succubus – the longer the female demon was in the Castle, the better she had become at imitating Belle's mannerisms. Belle had been in love with him to then – he had always said to hell with the whole thing, let her kiss cure him, heal him – he had been ready, only for her, but he had to hold on to the power, had to have it to keep her safe. He had realized then he had to break her to save her from the pair. Eventually they would have drained enough off him to start on her as well, and he couldn't have that happen.

Even putting her under enchanted sleep, locking her in her cell in the dungeons again hadn't cooled the ardor they both felt towards one another. He had to send her away, and as she had left, he had felt the tears threatening to spill from him. He had no qualms about killing, about hurting, about seriously maiming someone who stood in his way, but that morning when he had turned her out broke something inside him. Gold had finally sealed the incubus in the copper vase, but the succubus had avoided him – he had assumed when the snow had stopped around the Castle finally, that she had moved on. Obviously the demon would eventually come for her mate, and would have no hesitation in freeing him, even if that meant hurting Belle in the process.

He could always release the incubus – impress upon him that his freedom relied on leaving both him and his wife alone from now on. He had made deals of the like in the past – usually when dealing with a magic he couldn't contain, and since magic here in Storybrook was different, he was uncertain if he would be able to stop the pair from draining everyone in town in their lust for, well lust. He didn't like the odds being stacked against him.

Gold ran his thumb across his lower lip as his eyes went to the front window. Belle was making her way down the sidewalk to the Library, right on time, as always. He could set a watch by her, as fastidious as she was about opening the Library exactly at eight o'clock in the morning, Monday through Friday. His wife turned and waved, knowing he would see her, he always did, before she vanished around the corner to begin her day.

In being open and honest with her, he would need to tell her the danger his plan possessed. The incubus might want to take revenge, and well, the succubus, had she found her way here, would want retribution as well. As accustomed as he was to making decisions about his own wellbeing in the past, he had promised Bae that he was going to change, that he would change, be better. That meant telling Belle, telling her everything, and allowing her to make this decision as well – her wellbeing in danger as well.

Gold was certain his wife would insist on freeing the demon, should a compromise be made. A frown crossed his face as he weighed this knowledge against his leaning on not telling her at all, destroying the vase, and then hunting the succubus down and ending her as well. Hesitation was not like him; Belle was changing him, and he was rather worried that it would make him blind to the danger they obviously were in from the pair – should their actually be a pair in this world.

Gold sighed and filed the card back into the wooden box, closing the lid back. The decision did not need to be made right this moment. He would research more about the demons, and then tell Belle what he knew. From there the decision would be made, together, as it should be. He only hoped that he had enough courage to follow through, as he should.

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Her limbs felt heavy, and the furs covering her felt too good to throw them off just yet. She realized she was in her Master's bed as soon as she heard the familiar creak of his spinning wheel. Apparently he had moved the device to his chambers for the time being, probably to keep an eye on her, and indulge on his favorite past time while she slept. The last thing Belle could remember was the tea he had given her, it had been well sugared and the cream had been incredibly fresh. The wheel paused as she started to move on the bed, pulling blankets and furs aside as she struggled to find her feet. As she parted the curtains of the bed, she yawned noticing that the fire in the hearth was burning steadily, one of her iron ovens from the kitchen hanging off a hook, the delicious smell of something meaty and hearty distracting her only a moment before she saw her Master.

Golden-green flesh capturing flashes of light from the fireplace, he was shirtless, the muscles in his back moving beneath skin. Belle caught herself staring, her throat suddenly very dry, and her hands fidgeting with her apron that she had apparently fallen asleep in. His hair was wet still, so he must have bathed while she had slept – thoughtful enough to bring dinner with him after his sweep of the castle. He turned slightly on his stool, staring over his shoulder at her as she fought not to feel like prey being noticed by a hunter for the first time. He dropped length he had been working on and stood, covering the distance between them in three steps.

Her Master's hand fisted in her disheveled hair, tilting her head back as his lips descended over hers, Belle couldn't breathe, the feel of his mouth against hers robbing all sense of reason from her. His lips moved, along her jaw line, his tongue licking a hot trail to her ear, before sharp teeth found her ear lobe and worried the skin. His kisses feathered down her neck, the hand not holding her head immobile splayed across her lower back, his body pushing her towards the bed. Belle's legs moved on their own, as his hips ground down against hers, a low growl coming from her Master as his tongue darted into the hollow of her neck, along her collar bones, his teeth nipping at the swells of her breasts, the fabric of her dress preventing him from moving lower.

The hand in her hair released her head, Belle's arms going around his shoulders as he continued the assault with his mouth, worrying skin, biting, licking, kissing any part he could reach, the two day stubble on his cheeks a delicious contrast to the softness of his tongue and lips. His free hand toyed with the laces of her bodice, giving him more access that he instantly took advantage of. Belle couldn't stop the moan of longing as his lips closed around her nipple, suckling the small nub until she felt the skin harden. He bit the underside of her breast as he moved to the other, repeating the same torture as his still clothed hips mimicked the rhythm of her own. There was too much fabric between them, and apparently the same thought had occurred to him as he pulled her skirts up around her hips, his eager hands ripping her undergarments away.

Arms pulling her legs up over his shoulders, her Master moved her so that her bare bottom was hanging off the end of the bed, forcing her to lie back as he knelt to the floor. His hands splayed across her inner thighs keeping her from trying to close her legs back together. She felt the first kiss on her knee as his mouth worried skin, first one side, then the other, higher and higher until she felt his hot breath against her most private areas. Hands fisting in the furs she was laying on, she felt his nose first, then that wonderful tongue of his trace a path from the bottom of her folds, along her sex, before finally that little pleasure packed nub she had often times touched as she thought of him doing exactly what he was doing to her now.

Her cry was lusty, and spurred on by the sounds she was making her Master's tongue darted in and out of her, his thumb moving quickly over her clit as he did. Belle couldn't stand it any longer; she wanted her Master, in her, deep in her and soon, the feeling of his tongue lapping at her driving out all thoughts of how improper this whole situation was. Sliding her fingers into his hair, she carefully tried to pull him up again, unable to voice how much she wanted him to fill her in other ways.

"Please, Rumpelstiltskin…I need you now." She finally was able to get out, her voice small and timid as she shivered in anticipation. Her Master stood, his hands going to unlace his leathers as she watched him with hungry eyes. She wanted this, wanted this with him, and she was about to rip those damn leather pants off him if he didn't hurry up.

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Rumpelstiltskin's eyes snapped open from where he had been sleeping on the couch next to the fireplace, swearing he had just heard his Belle call for him. Bleary eyes turned towards the bed to find her naked ass hanging there, an incubus, tall, black as night, and obviously ready to take his Belle's maidenhead, standing between her legs. It's serpent like tongue wrapped around one of her pert nipples, worrying the skin. He was on his feet in instant, hands throwing dark bolts at the demon as he grabbed for its long white hair. He growled in rage as he threw the demon across the room, putting himself between Belle and it, the temperature in the room dropping as he pulled all the heat into a fireball.

"So, this is who has been skulking about my Castle." Venom dripping in his tone, he spoke, and his teeth clenched in rage. The incubus rose to its full height, and it's glamour on Belle broke, the young girl starting to scream from behind him. Rumpelstiltskin swore he could see the smirk on the incubus' void less face.

"Yes, Dark One, oh yes. Bound to be the downfall of both you and your little _fille, _the price of our summoning." The incubus moved as Rumpelstiltskin did, narrowly avoiding the knife that the Dark One was aiming for its chest. The incubus made a break for the warded door, turning into a black mist as it went. Rumpelstiltskin turned, launching the dagger at the mist, his aim true as the incubus regained solid form, its foot pinned to the floor. Rumpelstiltskin laughed maliciously as the dagger sunk into the floor to the hilt.

"Looks like it's you who got penetrated this evening, instead of my headstrong maid." He moved towards the incubus as he heard Belle moving to put herself behind him once more, her sniffling making him feel even more murderous than he already was. "Ahh, so that's what Regina was up to all along. Clever girl, I shall have to make sure she never again thinks that she can beat me by _baser_ beings." The incubus roared at him, sharp teeth from the jagged gash that was its true mouth, the only opening on its black face.

"Go ahead and kill me then! End it, a far better fate than being bound to another!" The incubus screamed at him then. Rumpelstiltskin laced his fingers together, eyes narrowing. He could press this situation into his advantage.

"How about we make a deal instead…."

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Rumpelstiltskin sat with his back turned to the copper tub in the corner of his room, his hands working the spinning wheel he had brought there earlier in the evening. Belle was furiously scrubbing at her skin, the aftermath of her violation clear in the way she was still sobbing. He was having a hard time keeping the desire to immediately go and kill Regina in check. She had proven that she was too volatile a human to cast his curse, this latest transgression all the proof he needed.

"Master?" Belle asked him, looking at the back of his vest as he spun. Rumpelstiltskin stopped, keeping his eyes from wandering back at her. At least she wasn't sobbing hysterically anymore.

"Yes Belle?" He answered, starting to turn the wheel again. He heard her moving in the water, changing position he assumed. He was _not_ going to look, not after what she had been through this evening.

"The…creature," she continued. "He said, "our summoning", meaning he isn't working alone." Belle putting voice to his very own thoughts. He leaned over, pulling the fluffiest towel he owed from a stack by the folding divider that partitioned off his bath from the rest of the room. He held it up to the side, still refusing to look back. His stomach tightened as her fingers brushed against his as she took the towel from him. "Thank you, Master."

"Yes, he did say "our", which can only mean that a succubus is loose in the Castle as well." Rumpelstiltskin looked at the copper vase that sat on his bed side table, the vessel he had used to capture the incubus after their deal had been made. "Which means you are safe, dearie." He added, to alleviate her obvious fears.

"But you are not." She was stepping out of the copper tub, wrapping the fabric around her as she did. He felt her hand touch his shoulder, and he swallowed the lump that had suddenly formed in his throat, his mind going back to the sight of her almost naked, writhing on his bed, and practically moaning his name.

"No, I most likely am not." He kept spinning, trying to forget how close she was to him, touching him. It had been ages since someone had touched him of their own volition with such tenderness about it. And the little maid was playing with fire, most likely emboldened by her earlier ravaging.

"Is there anything you can do to stop her?" Belle's voice sounded like she was fighting back crying again. He had never known his little maid to be overly emotional, but then again she had almost been raped this evening. He supposed that for someone normal that would be traumatic in and of itself.

"Belle…please." He begged of her then, his hands gripping the wool even tighter than before. He clenched his teeth as he fought not to turn – he would not look at her, not right now.

"What?" She asked, very confused, the uncertainty at what he was asking her for apparent in her voice.

"You are a gorgeous young woman, who was very nearly raped this evening, standing in the den of the monster who stole you from your family, practically naked. I am old, dearest, not dead. Certain things happen to a man that he cannot control around young, beautiful semi-naked females." She made no move to dress after he spoke, and he stiffened under her touch as she dared to touch his neck, her index finger feather light on his pulse point.

"So you're saying I'm beautiful, and that you'd not be able to stop yourself from doing to me what that incubus was set upon doing to me." Fire, she was playing with fire, and he had half a mind to show her just how hot fire could burn. Whatever small part of him was still the man he had been cowered in the back of his mind, whispering that this wasn't his Belle, it was the succubus trying to trick him and drain him more. He knew he was lying to himself.

"What I am saying dearie, is that yes, you are beautiful, and yes, hearing you call out my name was perhaps one of the most singularly spectacular moments in my long, long life. But Belle, you are young and know not what you're asking for, nor how irreversible certain actions are once taken. You are most likely in shock, traumatized, and seeking comfort where there can never be comfort from. I am the Dark One, but I am not a rapist, nor am I a defiler of innocent, beautiful, young women. You may feel that you want this in this moment, but you would come to regret that decision for the rest of your life. Just like any other woman I have ever had the pleasure of touching. So please, Belle, put your clothes on, eat a little dinner, and then get some sleep, in the morning we are leaving the Castle for a while." Belle's finger pulled away from his flesh, and the chill set in his shoulder as she turned away from him, gathering her clothes. He could hear her dressing quickly, the absence of her touch physically painful.

"Yes, Master." She finally managed to tell him, as she carefully moved from the bathing area and hid herself in his bed, the curtains closing quickly. He closed his eyes at the sadness that had been on her face as she did so, unable to even look at him. Rumpelstiltskin did the only thing he could; he continued to spin to forget.

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Belle was still asleep as Rumpelstiltskin woke on the couch by the fireplace. He had turned he

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r away last night and the muffled cries from his curtained bed had almost made him forget his manners and show her just how much he wanted her. The girl had no idea what she was asking for. Every woman he had ever dared to have even the swiftest feelings for turned to darkness in one way or another. Belle was light, and even though he was a monster, he would not, could not take that from her.

Hands scrubbing his face to remove the last traces of sleep, he listened to her quiet breathing. Apparently she had finally cried herself to sleep. His eyes moved to the spinning wheel, but its old familiar call was silent in the early morning hours. Rising from the couch, he collected his boots and cloak from beside the door and teleported himself to the Great Hall. Sitting in his favorite chair, he worked at lacing his boots, minus magic, the ordeal taking somewhere near to a half an hour to do, but the repetitive motion, and the work with his hands kept him from letting his mind wander too much.

The animals would need to be fed, and some breakfast made, before his day could continue. Standing and passing through the kitchen, he poured himself a cup of icy cold water from the pitcher that had been left out all night, the kitchen cold for the first time in weeks, the fires having gone out while he kept Belle locked in his chambers for her safety. He would bring in wood from outside later.

He descended the stairs, working without magic once again - he needed to feel the physical labor in his old bones, prove to himself that he could do all that was expected in life still without his crutch. He knew that he would need to find a way around that damnable kiss he had seen in his dreams. It would eventually happen, and he was afraid he was powerless to stop it. He was fairly certain that she felt the same about him as he did about her, and if that was the case, well, he was going to be faced with a difficult decision very soon, one that he would likely regret.

Rumpelstiltskin took the shovel beside the door way, and began to muck out the straw that had been dirtied by the animals. He had hoped that should he capture one of the demons, which he had been successful in, then the snow would stop. As of the last time he checked, last night, the snow was still falling with reckless abandon, and showing no signs of letting up very soon. The animals were beginning to suffer from being stabled as they were. They needed fresh air, and grass, not hay, to keep them healthy. They needed to feel the sun – even as he had been a spinner in his mortal life, he knew how to keep a small homestead. While his Castle might be more than what he had been accustom to growing up, and later in his long life, he knew his way around a farm.

Taking the silver key to the door way from his waistcoat, he turned the lock twice, looking at a wall of snow, lip curled back into a sneer as he worked quickly to melt a path. He had to get the animal's filth out at least; otherwise they'd get sick soon. There was also the small fact that he and Belle would be gone at least a day, even by magical journey to and from. Rumpelstiltskin knew he couldn't leave them outside for that long, not with how chilly the weather was, with no real way to get to shelter. He could melt the snow, but as long as it kept falling, he couldn't turn them loose while they were away.

He worked quickly, shoveling out all the dirty hay first, sweat rising on his forehead and down the back of his neck. His bones felt old, stiff, like the manual labor was being done by his fifty year old body, and not the magical one he had been granted by the curse. He knew he could use the magic, have the chores done in seconds, but he felt like he'd be cheating the animals, and more importantly Belle. He had to know he could still do this – had to know that if he was unable to find a way to keep the kiss from happening, that he could at least run them to a land where no one knew them, and live out their days there. A small ranch, a cottage, live stock, he could spin again. It wasn't as if he didn't have more than enough gold spun to last him ten lifetimes over. Standing up straight to work the kinks out of his lower back, he returned the shovel to its place beside the door, taking the broom up, and sweeping out the remaining hay. It was time to change it completely, especially since it was going on four days since he had herded them all into the lower levels of the Castle. Soon he was spreading out fresh hay, tossing out handfuls of corn for the chickens, bringing in water, helping the horses with their feed bags full of oats. His black nickered at him, chomping his teeth in frustration at being stabled for as long as he had been. Rumpelstiltskin took the fine haired brush from where it had hung on the latch to the black's stall.

"Alright Jet, hold on…" he murmured to the horse as Rumpelstiltskin began to rub the brush over the horse, watching as the slightly dull coat came back to life. "You're next Ruby; I can hear you stomping already. Paint, Meteor, you'll have to wait your turns." He felt stronger as he worked, almost as if his body wouldn't completely break down on him, as if he would be able to actually be a man again. The room was too hot now, the work not meant to be done in all leather and silk. He quickly pulled his vest off, and then tugged the silken frippery of a shirt off as well, tossing them over the side of the stall to hang until he was ready to head back upstairs. Better, he thought to himself as he took the brush back to Jet's side, keen ears picking up on the foot steps on the stairs.

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_Jet, Ruby, Paint and Meteor. So Bitey must be Meteor, by why a name like that. Jet, Ruby, and Paint make sense…Meteor?_ Belle had heard her Master talking to the horses before she had started to descend the stairs into the lower levels of the Castle. She had woke, alone, in his rooms, still curled up in his blankets and furs. She knew she wasn't in any danger anymore; the incubus had willingly went into the vase at her Master's deal. Belle stopped a few feet from the bottom of the stairs, noticing the basket of eggs. She pulled the basket up, before working up the courage to take those last few steps. As soon as she had hit the floor, she had wished she had turned right back around and gone back to the kitchen. Belle felt the blush rising in her cheeks before he acknowledged she was there with a faint nod of his head.

"You've been slacking in their care." He said roughly, continuing to brush down the horse she now knew was Jet. Belle's eyes narrowed as she bit her lower lip. He was right after all, she had told the horses that she would be back to brush them, and then the incubus had happened and she had been locked away. She watched his back as he worked, the gold-green skin catching the light.

"How do I know you're not the incubus trying to tempt me again? Trying to back out of a deal with my Master – after all, you'd not be the first to try." She quipped back, walking over to the self that held items meant to take care of the horses. She took another brush down, setting the eggs on a bale of hay that was sitting on the outside of the stall gates. She raised the latch on Ruby's stall and slipped in with the beautiful red, letting the horse nuzzle her a few times before she started on the beautiful rust coat, working out dirt and tangles as she went. "I wasn't too far off on your name now, was I girl?" She asked the horse, feeling those amber eyes watching her.

"You witnessed me binding the incubus in the vase – with a deal that I would take his mate to a different realm, and once the snow storm abated I would send the vase to that same realm so that they could live free of being bound to the Evil Queen. You doubt I am who I am?" He asked Belle, the end of his question rising in timbre, his hands still working Jet's coat clean, the large black nearly prancing hoof to hoof at the pleasure of being brushed.

"You are half naked, doing manual labor, and I find out your horses actually have names. You've done a large number of my chores for the day, and I can practically feel your eyes burning a hole in my neck. Remember I've been in this Castle a while, and Rumpelstiltskin is usually more secretive in his stares." Belle leaned over, working the brush down Ruby's front legs, knocking off dirt and dust as she went. Ruby kept huffing into Belle's side, her ears doing the little forward and backwards dance they did when the red got a well needed brush down.

"I've been working all morning, it got warm down here, yes they have names, and the chores are because I chose to do them, dearie, nothing more." He left out the part about staring, but the way her hair was moving across the back of her neck was too much, the basement room becoming far more warm and small than it had been when he had been down there alone. He kept brushing Jet, trying to lose himself into the monotony of work once again.

"So you don't deny that you were staring." It sounded more of a statement then a question, and Rumpelstiltskin ground his teeth for a moment. Damn her for being bright – no, thank everything that was good that she was so bright; he had someone he could have a decent conversation with for the first time in nearly a century. "And you think I'm beautiful."

"Aye." He replied without thought, trying to keep as much to himself as possible.

"Then why would you deny me something I obviously want from you? Aren't you so keen to make deals?" Belle continued to work on Ruby's legs, as Rumpelstiltskin came around to the other side of Jet's stall to work on his other side.

"Why would I make a deal for something that obvious we both want? There is nothing more you could trade to me of meaning that would be of interest to me. But as with most people, you've already come to me with a trade in mind, didn't you dearie?"

"Yes, I have."

"Why would you want to trade for this? You realize of course, it would make you an outcast, sully your honor, and make you undesirable to any other male for the rest of your life. What you're choosing to barter with is the only thing that can secure nations, bring empires to their knees, and overthrow kings and queens alike. And you would trade it for a couple minutes of extremely awkward fumbling in the dark with a monster who took you away from your family?"

"Who said my trade would be for one time?" Belle finally said, as Rumpelstiltskin turned to look at her again, the muscles in his abdomen painful as they clenched, and his leathers too tight as he was incredibly thankful for the stall wall between them. Bent over, brushing Ruby's legs, her behind moved with the work, the not so chaste thoughts that he had about her often enough playing through his head in high speed.

"How many times would you be trading for…" He began carefully, not liking how this deal was being struck without his full control.

"Why, forever! That's what you told me when you took me, wasn't it? The deal was for forever?" She stood up then, turning to face him, her fingers reaching out and touching his cheek, his eyes going wide with disbelief.

"And what would I receive in return; surely you don't think your maidenhead is enough to tempt me into a deal for unconditional sex."

"Who said it would be unconditional? No, my deal is this; I will be your wife and lover, you will share a bed with me, every night, me and no other, and I will do _anything_ you ask of me in said bed. In return, you will allow me freedom to explore the entire castle, read any and all books you have in this Castle, and one week, once a season to return home and visit with my family, such visits you can accompany me on, to make sure that my village does not renege on our previous deal – thus insuring their continued safety. Finally, you will teach me to spin so that I can spin wool to knit into warmer clothing. You are going to be the only person I know, for the rest of my life; therefore I want you to be the person I _know _for the rest of my life." Belle's fingers moved down his jaw line, across his collar bone, noticing his hands were gripping the stall wall so much that his knuckles were turning bone white, despite the greenish-gold skin.

"I'm not looking for a wife, nor for loooove dearie, however… tempting your offer may be. As I said last night, I may be a Monster, but I am not in the habit of defiling beautiful young women." Rumpelstiltskin was screaming in his mind at himself. Of course he wanted this, he had wanted to bend her over the table and fuck her into submission every time she leaning over him, serving tea. Wanted to feel her writhing beneath him in total abandon in the furs of his bed, even feel those soft pink lips around his cock, hands fisted in her hair.

"Godsdamnit Rumple…" Belle began, dropping the brush and leaving Ruby's stall, his eyes following her as she moved to an empty stall that the unbound fresh hay was kept in, crooking her finger at him as she moved. He followed, the little black and white goat vocalizing at him as he stalked his maid across the room, following her into the stall, amber eyes never leaving her face. "I want you. How much simpler can I make this?"

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**A little shorter than the last two chapters, but let me know what you thought! I apologize about the time in between posts, but that should become less here soon as my main focus, Sensitivity, is nearing it's middle, and will afford me more time to work on this fic in my spare time! Much love to the reviewers and readers - y'all make me blush - Sed**


	4. Chapter 4

**Hello Again Dearies! Sorry for the delay - work and waking life have been keeping me from my writing here lately. Please enjoy! - Sed**

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**Chapter 4**

**_Last Night:_**

"How about we make a deal instead…" Rumpelstiltskin trailed off as he heard Belle pull her clothing back into a more normal order behind him. The incubus looked at him incredulously, through the void that held no eyes, but the sorcerer was keenly aware that the demon was watching him.

"Go on…" The incubus finally vocalized, tendril wisps of arms going to try and free the dagger from his foot, the one that was pinning him to the floor.

"Don't try it; it will end poorly for you. No, rather an option to free you from your obligations to a certain frigid bitch that has been an ever more disappointing failure as time passes. I will take you and your mate to another realm, one where she cannot follow you. Your mate first, you kept bound here as collateral to secure her agreement. Once she is safely neutralized as a threat to myself and to my Belle, then you will be delivered to her. In exchange, before you are delivered to her, I would ask that you stop the snow storm that is currently burying my bloody castle, as well as something that I think you would find entirely too enjoyable." Rumpelstiltskin had a certain revenge in mind.

"And this second condition, what would that entail?" the incubus asked after taking a moment to process what he was being told.

"You can change form to any that you have seen in dreams before, correct?" Rumpelstiltskin asked, fingers steepling together as he began to pace. "There is a particularly young, strapping male that the Evil Queen once loved – he was killed. Enter her dreams, take his form, and then siphon to your black little heart's content."

"No! You can't do that. Master, it's cruel, even if she is as black as you've told me she is!" Belle interjected from behind him, coming forward to put a small hand on his forearm, tears starting to form along her lower lashes. "No matter what she has, or has yet to do to you, that is cruel, even for you, Master." Rumpelstiltskin looked from her hand on him, to her face, and then back to her hand, before squaring his shoulders and clearing his throat.

"Scratch that last part from the deal, until you want to do that on your own." He felt the tension in Belle's hand relax, as he hazarded a look to her face, his heart nearly beating out of his chest at the look in her eyes. "I didn't do it for you, get that idea out of your head." He added quickly, as a knowing smile spread across her lips, her hand remaining on his forearm.

"Deal." The incubus said quickly.

"Deal. In you go then." Rumpelstiltskin recalled his dagger, freeing the incubus from the floor, pulling the first container he could think of from his collection that was non-magical, a certain copper flower vase, and using it to bind the incubus inside. The furnishings would be temporary after all. Once the succubus was safely in the other realm, then the incubus would be freed there as well. Now, he just had to figure out how to capture the succubus. "Belle, dear?" He turned to look at her again, a genuine smile on his face as he covered her small hand with his own. "How would you like a day or two to visit with a very clever child I am particularly fond of?"

"And just when I thought you had run out of ways to impress me…"

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Early morning came quickly. Rumpelstiltskin's plan had been all along for them to teleport to an area of the Enchanted Forrest where the person whom could travel between realms lived. Of course, Belle would be watching over a child while her master and this person took the succubus to another realm, they had to capture her first, and then they would be back to fetch her. Sitting on her master's bed combing her hair out she wondered about the child she would be watching, her eyes on the spinning wheel as her master thought.

"You said you were very fond of this child, yet gave no indication if the child was a little boy, or a little girl." She finally spoke, starting to braid her hair into a tail over her shoulder. She would need her hair bound since it had been a while since she had washed it properly, what with the snow and all the chaos that had been going about the castle lately.

"Her name is Grace, and she is very clever." Rumpelstiltskin told her, his hand going still as the familiar cadence of the wheel turning stopped. "She and her father lost her mother some time ago. He is doing the best he can to raise her, but while we are gone, he will need assurance that she will be properly taken care of. He doesn't like to leave her alone very long at all." He supplied, looking over his shoulder at her.

"Well, I've not had much experience with children, but I will do my best, Master. Tell me, does she like stories? Maybe I could read to her."

"We may be gone a day or two, possibly a week, so if you think stories are going to keep her occupied that long, you're sadly mistaken. I'll bring you both to the castle, as soon as we have captured the succubus, so you have an abundance of snow, exploring, and stories to keep yourself entertained, and I know that the both of you will be safe that way. As long as neither of you leave the main courtyard, then the magic protecting the castle should still keep you safe. Wander outside of that and well…you're on your own, dearie."

"Then I suppose that we should make every effort to keep inside the courtyard, but I cannot promise that you will not come back to a courtyard filled with snowmen." Belle smiled as she tied off her braid with a yellow ribbon, and moved off the bed, gathering her traveling cloak. "So we may be there a day or two, and then before you leave for the other realm, you will come and collect us and bring us here."

"Your understanding is, as always, completely accurate. Now, I know the last time we traveled this way, it left you disoriented. My advice; don't hold your breath. Take my arm, dearie." Rumpelstiltskin rose from the spinning wheel, holding his arm out to Belle in a gentlemanly way, her smile never faltering as she took his arm. With a thought, and a blink of her eyes, they were standing in only a mildly chilly part of the forest, a small hut with a curl of smoke coming from its chimney nearby.

"Oh you're right, that was ever so much easier this time." Belle waved at the red smoke that they had arrived in, her face twisted in a look of discomfort, but not the bewilderment or total confusion he had seen on her features the last time.

"If only more people would realize that. Now, let us go see Miss Grace and her father, Jefferson." Rumpelstiltskin put a hand to her back, hovering, never fully touching her, but close enough that she could feel the warmth of his hand through her cloak and her bodice. He had walked with her like this when she had gone with him the first time.

"You've never mentioned a Jefferson before." She asked, more than a statement. Belle turned slightly so she could look at his face as they covered the small distance to the cottage. "In fact, you've never mentioned Grace before either…" she trailed off as a blonde headed flash of child came barreling at them, Rumpelstiltskin's hands deft as he caught the child in a hug to keep from toppling over.

"Uncle Rumpel!" Came a delighted squeal from the ball of excitement he hugged.

"Well look at what I've caught, Belle, a little forest nymph! I believe we shall need to skin her and dry her pelt to sell at market! Neh, neh!" Rumpelstiltskin changed before her eyes, the sentence might have been in malice towards someone breaking in, but he was charming, every bit an uncle in that moment. Belle's smile widened underneath her hood, as amber eyes turned to her, cautioning her to never mention the occurrence again. She knew that look well, and the smile deepened into a knowing smile as Grace was deposited back on her feet. "Grace, this is Miss Belle, she will be staying with you as your father and I take care of some business."

"She's really pretty Uncle Rumpel, is she going to be my Auntie one day?" From the mouths of babes. Rumpelstiltskin looked panicked, fumbling for the right words.

"Well, that… I mean, She…" He started, wondering how to explain in a way a young mind would comprehend.

"Hello, Grace," Belle stepped in, kneeling down so that they were eye to eye. "I work for your uncle, at his castle, and it would be improper for me to be your auntie in the rules of society. But rules are made to be broken sometimes," Belle added quickly with a wink. "Are you going to be okay with me spending some time with you?" She asked, holding out a leather gloved hand to the girl.

"Uncle Rumpel, break the rules and make her my auntie, I like her." Grace demanded, taking Belle's hand and pulling her to the cottage. "Come see my tea set, we can have tea before Papa and Uncle Rumpel go!" Belle laughed at Graces exuberance, and allowed herself to be pulled along, a wide smile across her face. Eyes wide, Rumpelstiltskin watched the exchange, and with a half smile forming on his face, he followed along, shaking his head.

Jefferson offered Belle tea, pouring her a steaming cup of sweet smelling liquid into mismatched cups. Belle smiled graciously, and added sugar sparingly. The inside of the cottage looked like he and Grace were doing what they could to just have a small bit above comfortable existence. The one room cottage was homey, lived in, inviting. It smelled of love and happiness, even with the air of not being complete, of being just the two of them. Belle sipped her tea as Jefferson and Rumpelstiltskin talked, Grace having moved her chair as close to Belle's as possible to lean against her side as the men spoke.

"So, Wonderland." Jefferson began, as he handed a tea cup to Rumpelstiltskin, before sitting down and pouring his own cup of tea.

"It is the only place that Regina cannot follow them, unless you take her there. And well, there may be someone there who would like to come back to this realm now that he's failed what he went there to do." Rumpelstiltskin explained as he took a sip of the sweet smelling tea. It was robust, with a hint of orange. He would need to find out where Jefferson got the mix from, as he watched Belle's face brighten with delight at the tea. Jefferson's eyes followed Rumpelstiltskin's gaze, before the other male shook his head and snapped twice.

"I'm over here." He joked, a smirk crossing his features. "I assume my standard payment will be met?" He asked, as Rumpelstiltskin set his tea cup down, steepling his fingers together, much like he always did when making a deal. Belle shifted slightly, putting an arm around Grace as they remained silent. Grace looked up to Belle then, grinning. The child had some mischief in mind, Belle could already tell.

"Yes, yes, your standard fee. I should remove a stipend for Belle, since she will be doing the hard part of the work." Rumpelstiltskin leaned back in the chair, crossing his legs as he did.

"If you think it appropriate." Jefferson looked to Belle then, leaning forward a bit. "You promise you'll take good care of her? Make sure she's safe until I return?" Belle's mouth opened to say something, but she hesitated. The look on Jefferson's face was so full of love for his daughter. She had seen that look before, when her father looked at her. She caught her moment of rudeness quickly, and gave Grace a small hug.

"You have my word that I will make certain she is well cared for in your absence." Belle promised, holding her hand out to Jefferson to shake on the deal. Jefferson took her gloved hand and pressed a kiss to her knuckles.

"Then I will be in your debt, Lady Belle." He murmured to her, as he let half lidded eyes study her face.

"Stop molesting my help, Jefferson." Rumpelstiltskin sighed, looking to Grace. "I believe your father means to make Belle your step-mother if we let him keep mooning over her like that." Jefferson shook his head with a smile, as an embarrassed blush spread across Belle's face.

"No, I don't believe that Mister Jefferson means anything of the sort Master." She spoke quietly, looking down to Grace.

"You could be my mother, Belle!" Grace said excitedly, pulling on Belle's traveling cloak a moment, Grace's voice dropped to a whisper. "But I think Uncle Rumpel would be silly not to make you my auntie."

"Enough of that, dear. Miss Belle is a beautiful young woman; she will not find a good match with me." Rumpelstiltskin reached out and ruffled Grace's hair, as the child giggled. "Shall we?" He directed at Jefferson.

"I'll meet you outside after I talk to Grace a moment. Would you mind, Belle, allowing us a moment?" Jefferson smiled at Belle, as she set her tea cup down.

"Oh! No, of course not. I will just…. I will be outside then." Belle smiled, covering over how flustered she felt at all the talking about mothers and aunts and the like. She rose from her seat at the table, her hand patting Grace's shoulder. "I will be back in a moment Grace." Rumpelstiltskin rose from his seat as well, ushering Belle outside, and closing the door behind them. Jefferson looked to his daughter then, his eyebrow raised as he chuckled.

"She could be your mother, eh?" He asked as Grace smiled at him.

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"She will be a handful, she's being very insistent on things today." Rumpelstiltskin cautioned Belle as they walked through a clearing near the cottage. "And she is used to having her way on just about everything." Belle had pushed the hood of her cloak back when they had first entered the cottage, and she had neglected returning it to her head as they walked, Rumpelstiltskin's hand hovering above the small of her back once again.

"A handful you say? Much like someone who demands his morning tea at exactly eight o'clock in the morning every morning, including holidays and weekends?" Belle teased him, a smile on her face as she did. This was the most relaxed she had seen him since she had come under his, semi-unwilling, employ. "Thank you for negotiating a small portion of money for me. I should like to get some fabric, perhaps make myself another working shift and a heavier night shift for the season change. Perhaps…" She trailed off, thinking.

"Perhaps?" He asked as they stopped in the clearing. He had assumed he had provided for her all manner of things that she should need. He had made sure her wardrobe contained clothes for working, and for resting when she had the occasional time alone, the cloak she was wearing, and the soft gloves that covered her hands. Traveling leathers, boots, stockings, underthings, night clothing, a bed with warm blankets and furs, pillows, books, a toilette complete with basin and bowl, a fire place, book shelves, small items that had caught her eye here and there. Had he missed something while he had been furnishing her room? Changing it from a dungeon cell to an actual room over time.

"Perhaps, a ball of wool yarn and some knitting needles. I could knit in the evenings as you spin, a shawl for me to have for the evening time, for when it gets colder in the next few months." She finally supplied, as he nodded.

"I tell you what…" Rumpelstiltskin started. "I will spin you a lovely blue yarn to make a shawl from, if you sit and read to me in the evenings while I spin it." She had been silent the last few evenings, the chaos that had been their lives the past few days catching up finally.

"I believe you have yourself a deal, Master." She smiled at him.

"One more part of this deal…"

"Oh?"

"No more calling me Master."

"Of course, Ma…Rumpelstiltskin."

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Jefferson poured imaginary tea into his daughter, Grace's, tea set, a part of the good bye ritual they held so dear with one another over the past few years. He knew that Rumpelstiltskin needed time to explain his plan to Belle, and thus was spending as much time as possible with his daughter before they would head off to try and complete their silly mission of sorts. Grace eyeballed him from across the table, suspicion on her face.

"Why do you keep looking at me like that?" He finally asked, picking up his real tea cup and taking a long drag off the hot liquid, letting it warm him in the winter afternoon.

"Because you're not telling me anything not to do while I spend time with Belle while you and Uncle Rumpel go off and do who knows what." Grace quipped back, taking a cookie from the plate at the center of the table.

"Do you really want to know?" Jefferson asked, setting his tea cup back down on the table.

"I would. You never tell me anything of your adventures." Grace leaned forward, patting her father's hair with a smile.

"Well," Jefferson began. "It is a complicated matter. Uncle Rumpel has an uninvited guest in his castle, who refuses to leave. He needs my help to make sure this guest will finally leave so he and Miss Belle can return to some harmony of living."

"So Uncle Rumpel _does_ like Belle?" Grace edged a bit closer, a wide childish smile crossing her face. "So she might be my Aunt Belle?"

Jefferson sighed, folding his hands together on his lap, his face one of thought.

"Papa…" Grace hedged, almost at the edge of her seat now.

"Yes, perhaps. But you mustn't mention that to him. Uncle Rumpel has spent a long time alone, and has a hard time trusting people, Grace, you know that. Let him come to the conclusion on his own, otherwise we'll have a very grumpy Uncle Rumpel on our hands, and you know what happens when he's grumpy."

"He turns people into snails!" Grace giggled, rocking back in her chair, the look on her face one of delight. Yes, Rumpelstiltskin would turn those who annoyed him into some sort of object he could easily crush, but Jefferson had never told her what happened to them after the transformation was complete. Usually some ugly and messy death, as for as much as the old imp was ruthless, he was completely well behaved around Grace. Jefferson had seen the sad looks in the past, and assumed that Rumpelstiltskin had children, but with as old as he was, there was no telling where those children were now, if even still alive. The fact that Grace had taken to him so easily put the imp off guard, his actions grandfatherly even.

"Yes, he turns them into snails for his gardens; snails are good for gardens, aren't they?" Jefferson smiled at Grace then, pouring her more of the watered down tea he kept for her, so that she wouldn't be up all night making poor Belle face the full brunt of a hopped up eight year old.

"They are. They are good things for some plants, but bad things for others! And birds eat them. But the birds help carry seeds from place to place, and then we eat the birds at supper." Grace went off on a tangent, and Jefferson could feel his brain starting to process the words in the mind of a mad man. He watched his daughter's face as she continued on her merry way in some sort of circular logic that would make sense to him eventually, smiling and nodding along while she talked.

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"I am very sorry to ask this of you Belle, but I must know a few, rather, personal details about you so that I can keep the real you separate in my mind." Rumpelstiltskin began as he took a seat on a log, some length from the cottage where they had left Jefferson and Grace.

"Of course, ask anything." Belle replied as she sat down next to him, turning to face him. Rumpelstiltskin lifted a hand, finger extended as he stopped, rethinking his next words.

"I shall understand completely if anything I say shocks you into smacking me." He prefaced his first question. "Are you, Belle, still a maiden?" Belle's cheeks went bright red, her hands twisting in her skirts as she looked rather panicked.

"You once said, that a maidenhead could secure alliances, well mine did. With Gaston's kingdom, for their help in the war. Of course it wasn't enough in the long term, but he did…" Belle trailed off as Rumpelstiltskin waved a hand.

"What has been done to you in the past is over with now. You have no maidenhead any longer, and I am assuming that the tall oaf that told me I couldn't take you was Gaston. No doubt wanting to taste the goods to make sure they were ripe for the picking before committing to an alliance."

"Something of the sorts." She replied, staring down at her hands still. Carefully, hesitantly, he placed one of his hands over hers, patting them gently, before letting his thumb work the worry free across the back of her hand.

"I understand." He could barely speak past the rage that was welling up inside him. His pretty little maid had been defiled by some common lout who probably couldn't even spell his own name, let alone write it. "So, that is one very telling difference. The succubus every time she has come to me has assumed you were still a maiden." He calmed a bit, letting the implications turn over in his head. "Do you have any birth marks or does your belly button stick out, instead of in?"

"I don't see…" Belle began, as she went to move, Rumpelstiltskin's hand on hers stopping her.

"Please, Belle. I need to know the differences, so I can tell you from her, so I can trap her and be rid of her and bring you home again." He didn't look at her, as she regarded him with mistrust.

"I have no birthmarks, and my belly button dips in, not out." She finally supplied, his eyes closing as he made his mental map.

"Any scars, or moles?" He asked, eyes still closed. He felt her move, hearing her skirts rustle as she did. Laces were being pulled, and the sound of fabric falling to the forest floor made him decide it was not safe to open his eyes yet. "What are you doing?" He choked out, trying not to think.

"Instead of this questioning, which will take too long…" Belle took both his hands in hers, moving them to her bare shoulders. "Feel, look, taste what you need to. Make sure you know the real me, instead of trying to keep this awkward conversation going." Belle closed her eyes as she felt his thumbs stroke along her collar bones, a sharp intake of air the only thing keeping her from bolting outright. Gaston had not made a favorable impression on her, but if Rumpelstiltskin was anything like what the incubus had done to her, he was a far cry more worthy to touch her than Gaston ever had been.

Rumpelstiltskin kept his eyes closed, his fingers slowly running across every inch of her flesh, knowing her body without sight first would make it easier. Belle had crossed her hands over her chest, the modesty even with permission making him gentle. He ran his thumb down her left arm, peeling it away first, then her right arm, letting her cover her more intimate areas as he spent his time continuing his mapping. Index finger sliding down the slope of her breast, he caught her nipple between thumb and forefinger, rolling it from one side to the other before repeating the process on her other side.

Belle bit her lower lip to keep from making any sound as his hands circled around to her back, pulling her closer as he buried his face in her hair, breathing deeply, committing her scent to memory. His fingers splayed, each hand moving lower until he cupped each cheek of her behind, weighing them with his hands, his fingers kneading the skin. She reached out to steady herself, her hands gripping his shoulders as his fingers moved across the curve of her hips, a small gasp as those same fingers traveled lower, splaying again across her stomach, lower still as he continued.

"Tell me to stop Belle." He murmured into her hair, his fingers sliding across the first traces of the curls of her sex, his hands trembling as he slowed his assessment of her body.

"No." She whispered as she felt his index finger slide between her nether lips, the blush of embarrassment rising in her cheeks, her chest. Belle's legs felt unsteady as he curled one arm around her waist, pulling her closer, as a second finger joined the first. The sound he made as his fingers found her wet, ready, snapped her eyes open, her head leaned against his as those nimble digits circled her clit over and over. She tilted her hips back, giving him better access, as he finally opened his eyes.

"Belle." His voice was a plea, asking for permission, the look of uncertainty on his face as he continued rubbing her, harder now, his movements deliberate. She was certain the incubus could never have imitated him now, seeing him like this. She tried to catch her breath, and failed; her words little more than a breathy whisper.

"Oh dear gods, yes." She finally managed as his fingers slid inside her, curling against a point of pleasure she never knew had existed, her knees buckling out from under her. He held her tighter, keeping her from falling as his lips crushed against hers, his tongue pressing forward into her eager mouth, their mutual moan lost. Rumpelstiltskin pulled her into his lap, his free hand drawing her leg up over his hips, as she moved the other leg of her own volition, her hands gripping his leather vest as she ground down against his fingers, her movements untrained, her limbs trembling as she tried to remember to breathe. She whimpered as he pulled his fingers from her, breaking the kiss long enough to slide both digits into his mouth, sucking the taste of her from them. Something changed then, whatever restraint he had been showing gone, as there was still far too many layers of clothing between them. Their hands both worked quickly to free him of his vest and shirt, their lips meeting again as they fumbled to unlace his leathers. Mostly undone, he stood, carrying her with him, backing her into a nearby tree, as he freed the last lace, her hands aiding him in pushing his pants down his hips, before her arms wrapped around his shoulders, her lips parting to allow his tongue to sweep into her mouth once again, tasting the tangy aftertaste of herself there.

Belle moaned, feeling his flesh meet hers, the hard length of him sliding against her, over and over, but not entering her. She gripped a handful of his hair, completely ready for him at this point, and frustrated that he wouldn't comply. She felt his forehead against her own, her eyes locked with his as he broke their kiss.

"I can't Belle." He told her between gasping breaths, still sliding against her, faster, the heavy feeling of her orgasm making her lower abdomen flood with warmth.

"Please, gods, please Rumpel…" Belle groaned at him, as he moved faster, his mouth closing around her nipple as he continued to stroke her. His teeth grazed across her skin as her body tensed, her orgasm hitting her, her cry scaring birds from their nearby nest. Rumpelstiltskin's movements became jerky, less rhythmic, as she felt the first hot rush of his own orgasm spread across her belly. He jerked once more, before he let her down to her feet, both hands catching her cheeks as he kissed her, slow, deeply passionate kisses. He finally wrapped his arms around her, holding her close to his chest, one hand going to cradle the back of her head, the other moving so that his hand could knead her lower back. Belle pressed her hand over his heart, feeling the muscle underneath finally slow to a much more normal pace. She fought his tongue, and was rewarded as his own retreated from her mouth, pulling her along with it. Her breathing slowed, and eventually his did as well, his forehead resting against hers one more time, as he broke the kiss once more. "Why not…" she eventually asked, the confusion showing on her face. "Do you not want this too?"

"I told you Belle, I am not in the habit of ravaging young, beautiful women. If, and when, a full consummation happens for you again, it will be in a marriage bed, as it should be. Until then, if you're so set on this, this will have to be enough. And dearest, never, for a moment think that I do not want this. You would be sorely mistaken if you thought otherwise." His voice was tender towards her, as he brushed her hair back from her face, his hand cupping her cheek as he kissed her again.

"Chivalry from the Dark One, and yet a million new ways you never fail to impress me…" she smiled against his lips, as he kissed her one last time before they would have to part. He pulled his pants back up over his hips, tying the leather laces back in place as he knelt, picking up her shift and bodice, fully intent on helping her dress. Off guard as he was, he never suspected that the intimate moment he had just shared with Belle, had really been shared with the succubus, until he felt the sharp crack against the back of his head, and the whole world went dark.

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"Did you find him?" Belle was on her feet the moment Jefferson entered the castle's Great Hall, her hands twisting in worry, as Grace continued to breathe deeply in slumber on the couch near the spinning wheel. Jefferson held a black gloved hand up, motioning for her to follow him to the kitchen, so they wouldn't wake Grace. Belle pulled her shawl from her shoulders, and added it to the blanket over Grace, before bee-lining for the kitchen door. Jefferson was close behind her.

"I did." He said quickly as Belle rounded on him the moment the kitchen door swung closed.

"And?" She asked, tears already forming along her lower lashes.

"And, it's bad. He was beat pretty soundly, and it appears he's been drained of most of his power. I don't know how long he's been hidden in the stables out there, but he showed no sign of frostbite, so I can only assume whoever did this has been keeping him warm." Jefferson leaned against the island counter, folding his arms against his chest.

"Where is he now?" Belle was barely keeping herself together. Almost a week ago, her master had vanished, and not returned. Had it not been for Jefferson coming to the castle, Belle didn't know what she would have done. She was magically sealed into the castle's grounds, unable to leave unless her Master accompanied her, or he willingly let her leave the grounds.

"I moved him up to his room as soon as I found him. He's still asleep and gaunt right now. Something or someone has been draining his magic, and has left him almost a shell. Are you certain you do not know where he keeps the majority of the more… risky magical items he's procured over the years?" Jefferson pinched the bridge of his nose as he thought. He knew Rumpelstiltskin kept items that would break a magical sleep like this, but he was uncertain of where the imp kept them. "Belle, it is important that he rest now. He was old, even before he was the Dark One, I'm not sure when he's going to wake up, but he's going to be raging mad when he does."

"I know this, I've been here a while now, but I don't think he would take that anger out on you, Grace, or myself. He should know that we were not involved in whatever did this, and no, I do not know where his 'secret cache' is, but I have an idea. I know where the spell books are, maybe something in there would be able to tell us what has happened to him. I'll make up a room for you and Grace, since it's so late and you'd not make it back through the snow." Belle went to head out of the kitchen.

"I appreciate that Belle, especially now that this snow storm has moved further inland, our cottage nearly had snow to my waist when Grace and I left. I knew here would be warm, and Rumpelstiltskin has never turned us away in weather as bad as this. As annoyed as he acted in those times we've come to him in the past, I think he secretly enjoyed the company." Jefferson stopped pinching his nose then, and yawned. "I'm just glad the door to the downstairs had been cleared, so I was able to bring my horse in, poor thing would have frozen out there tonight."

Belle smiled sadly, and then nodded. "I'll go get your bed made up, I'm assuming that Grace won't mind sharing with you, or should I make her up her own room?" Even with how the past week had gone, Belle remembered her manners.

"She'll be fine in with me, and it saves you from more work than necessary." He replied as he bent over beside the stove, shoving another log of wood into its belly to keep the fire inside going. "Just going to make a spot of tea before bed. Go on, I know where everything is, and I'll pour you a cup as well." Belle nodded once, and then left the kitchen, heading to the stairs that would take her to a wing of the Castle that served as guest quarters for the evening. Intentionally, it also would keep their guests as far away from Rumpelstiltskin's library and laboratory as possible.

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_Incoming picture message from Belle Gold._

_"Guess what arrived in the mail today?"_

_"**Is that what I think it is, my love?"**_

_ "Why yes, yes it is. What time are you closing the shop?"_

_ "**I'll be home in ten minutes."**_

_Incoming picture message from Belle Gold._

_ **"Make that five."**_

_ "I'll be waiting…"_

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**xXo=.*X*.=oXx**

* * *

Belle Gold had arrived home early, the library closed on Wednesdays at four, to allow her time to come home and prepare dinner for her and Rumpel, as had been tradition over the past few weeks leading up to their nuptials, and a ritual she planned on keeping now that they were legally married. She had nearly skipped back to the house when she had checked the mail today. Their vows had been spoken over a week ago, but until they held the legal documentation, Rumpel's old-fashion "code" wouldn't be satisfied. He had once explained to her that even if he was regarded as a monster by most, he did have rules that he lived by. She had remembered that conversation with displeasure on their wedding night. Something about making sure that the law, the Gods, and her family not being able to cry afoul their union, and that he wouldn't have her viewed as some doxy around town. Thus, their wedding night had been much like most nights, spent in bed, wrapped around one another, but with no consummation. Belle was particularly ready for that part.

Kitchen timer chiming that her lingonberry tart was done; she donned oven mitts and pulled a casserole dish from the oven. She had texted him a little over two minutes ago, and she assumed that he would burst through the door any moment, based on the pictures she had sent him. One of the license, stamped with official seal, and then another of her cooking in just her high-heels. She was fairly certain that the tart would be just the right temperature by the time they were done.

Pulling the oven mitts off, she returned them to their proper place in the drawer beside the oven, turned the oven off, and made her way towards their bedroom. As she climbed the stairs, she felt like she was being watched, enough so that she stopped, and looked behind her. Nothing appeared out of the ordinary, but the chill that had just run up her back, raising the fine hairs along her neck made her call out.

"Hello? Is someone there?" She asked to the well lit living room from her perch on the stairs, her nakedness forgotten as the first trickle of fear started to worm its way into her head. "Hello?" The crash from the bedroom made her jump, a startled shriek coming from her as she kicked off her heels and ran down the stairs. Thankful she had left her dress on the couch; she grabbed it and pulled it on over her head as she ran into the darkened parlor, hiding behind one of the folding paper dividers that had been placed near the windows. Belle held her breath as she heard the footsteps upstairs. She mentally cursed herself for not having grabbed the gun she knew was in the hallway drawer, next to the door. With someone moving upstairs, she very much did not want to give away her position.

The hinges of a door being opened upstairs made her cover her mouth and nose with her hands, fear having taken deep control of her now. Her cell phone started to chime in the kitchen, and the footsteps moving along the hard wood floor upstairs stopped. Crouched and hidden, Belle kept quiet as those footsteps started down the stairs, and into the kitchen. She heard her cell phone stop chiming.

"Well hello there, dear." Came a saccharine-sweet voice. "Surely you remember me. Oh no, I know exactly what I am doing, and if you don't return my mate to me, I'll make sure you never see yours again." Belle choked down her scream as she heard the cell phone hit the far wall of the kitchen. She needed to breathe, but she didn't dare. Magic was in this world, and it had unpredictable effects, and Belle was quite certain that whomever was in their house right now, would have magic. Belle jumped as she heard dishes, glasses, and her casserole dish hit the floors and shatter. Trembling uncontrollably now, she tried to back herself further into the corner hiding spot.

"Where are you…" came the same saccharine, sing-song voice. "I can taste your fear, Belle." The footsteps started again, through Rumpel's home office, as more items shattered on the floor. When the loud crash of a bookshelf being turned over sounded throughout the house, Belle screamed before she could help it. "I heeeeeeeeeear you… Ready or not! Here I come." Belle panicked, and made a break towards the front hallway, her bare feet slapping on the hardwood as she tried to make it to the front door.

"BELLE!" She could see his outline through the stained glass of the front door, his hands moving in some sort of spell, the door wasn't locked, the bolt wasn't turned, but the flash of green around the frame told her it was magically sealed. "BELLE!" Rumpelstiltskin yelled again as his cane crashed into the stained glass, ricocheting off like it was made of steel. "Gods be damned!"

"Rumpel!" She called as a form of black smoke appeared in front of her. Belle skidded to a stop, back peddling as fast as she could.

"Well hello, dearie." Her doppelganger smiled at her, index finger wagging back and forth. "Tut, Tut… trying to run away from our game. Now then… shall we?" Belle's eyes were wide as she kept backing up from the copy of her, its hands holding a shimmery-green bottle. The copy smiled brightly, and Belle swore she had never seen a more malicious smile, even from the Evil Queen, for as long as she had lived.

"See, all we're going to do… is put you in here. And then I'm going to drop you into the center of the deepest body of water I can find in this godsdamned little hovel you call a town, and you will never, ever, see your mate again." The copy pulled the ornate stopper from the bottle, holding it out towards Belle. "Au Revoir, Belle Gold. Better hope that he cares for you more now than he did back then."

"Rumpel!" Belle yelled as green tendrils snaked towards her, pulling her to the bottle, and then, nothingness, except the vague awareness of someone calling her name.

"And now, I get my mate back." The fake Belle laughed as she heard the Dark One throwing magic at the door, trying any means possible to gain entry to his own home to save his mate. "Did you hear that Dark One?" The copy yelled at the door, which only intensified the amount of fire that was being lobbed at the stained glass.

"If anything happens to her, I will kill you. Slowly, and with great pleasure." Rumpelstiltskin's voice was cold, calculated in his threat, as empty as it was at the time, especially since her enchantment on the door wouldn't break until she left the house. The copy giggled, turning to the stained glass to mock him.

"Oh, Dark One, you have no idea just how much you're going to suffer before this is all done. I'll take my leave now, your house is a little messy you know. Maybe you need to invest in a maid…"

"Oh, now I'm really going to kill you, and your mate," was the only reply the succubus waited around to hear, before she vanished in a cloud of black smoke. Rumpelstiltskin opened the door to his house finally, surveying the damage done. His eyes caught sight of the desert shattered across the kitchen floor, and his lip pulled back into a sneer. "But not before I make sure you beg for your death."

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**Well there it is - Hope you enjoyed it! Leave me a comment if you did, you didn't, or if you want me to burn under the Library, cursed! Thank you so much to my lovely beta reader, any polish in this chapter is entirely her doing (And yes, my dear, it is a Greek Tragedy...) Make sure to check out her stories as they are *ever* so lovely every single time - Miss CharlotteAshmore. Thank you to everyone who reviewed and followed - some days you're the only reason I sit down and work on these little tales.**

**Next installment will be in two weeks, What is our Rumpel going to do to get his wife back? And for that matter why are these two still causing trouble?!**


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